Soiled
by bornonhalloween
Summary: Cleanliness is next to godliness, but not even the boss's daughter can stay unsoiled forever. The hot mechanic is gritty and gruff and avoiding her like the plague, so naturally he's all she wants. But would she be better off keeping her distance? Angsty ExB told in BPOV.
1. Chapter 1

**SOILED**

**Several weeks ago, I got wind of an angst contest, and because I like a challenge, I said to my dear friend and most wise pre-reader, Intricacy, "I think I'd like to try that." She rubbed her hands together across the Atlantic, and I'm sure her eyes lit up with glee, because she's a true angsth00r of the highest magnitude. In fact, she has a scale from one to twelve with which she measures angst because ten just isn't enough! Well, the deadline came up on me and this thing wasn't scoring high enough on either of our angst meters (nor my trusty friend/beta/inspirator Chaya's), and frankly, I needed more words than the contest max allowed (SHOCKING, I know). So, even though my sweet French friend (and my sweet American friend) had literally spent HOURS helping me angstify and pare the story down, we all agreed it was for the best to shelve this story until I could fully explore the plot and the relationship and yes, the angst. **

**Little did Alterite know that I pulled this sucker out last week and started reworking it for her birthday (although she did a fair bit of digging and prodding and trying to get me to write some slash thing about a guy all tied up to a chair, and that was compelling, lemme tell ya, but no I'd already gone down this road) This time, I've got shellshock putting her angst-loving eyeballs on it 'cause she was supposed to read it last time but then it got nixed (see above). And of course, I wouldn't cross a "t" without chayasara, let alone attempt this madness. So here's to Team Angst, and Joyeux Anniversaire, mon petit chou d'amour! xx bisous**

* * *

**~ PROLOGUE ~**

When I look back on my Summer of Edward, I can almost see the bold dividing line between the purity that came before my mechanic and the gritty reality that followed. The truth is, Edward marked me with that very first look, weeks before his greasy fingerprints stained my clothing. I was soiled from the inside out, my unclean thoughts setting off the chain of events that tarnished everything like a tornado tearing up the midwestern countryside.

I suppose it was predictable that Edward would be the one to sully me, but none of us anticipated that he would also be the only one who could clean me up again.

**~ 1 ~**

_Ahh, _it was nice to be home.

My own bed in my own room without anyone else's stereo blaring. No more classes, no more finals. Laundry machines I didn't have to feed with quarters or stand guard over while my underwear spun around. Mom's lasagna and fresh cherry pie.

Best of all, I had a summer job that required no interview, paid as much as my friends busting their butts as lifeguards, and offered the opportunity to work for the best boss in town—Charlie Swan, a.k.a. my father.

I loved that Dad was beside himself that I was coming to work at Swan Motors this summer. After Mom and me, cars were his life. Well, not cars exactly, but the business—his employees and his customers—and rightfully so. He literally built the dealership from a mound of dirt. He was bold, too, putting a foreign car dealership in the middle of the Made-in-America automotive belt. Foreign cars were better-built in the eighties, and Dad could give you a hundred reasons why. "Detroit could do to learn some lessons from Japan," he loved to say.

That was Dad, and I kind of loved seeing him in action, watching people adore him. Our little family could hardly go anywhere in town without bumping into someone who wanted to gush over how Dad went out of his way to help.

"Bella, did you hear how Charlie got me a brand new engine from the factory?" or, "The man's a saint, Renee! He took my 1973 Thunderbird in trade at twice the Blue Book!" His deals were legendary; people would tease that they didn't know how he could afford to send me to "such a fancy shmancy college." Though his friends loved to make used-car salesman jokes at his expense, Dad's integrity was a given. It was God, the American flag, and Charlie Swan—at least, that's the way I always saw things.

My brief visits to the dealership in the past always left me oozing pride at being the boss's daughter. Let's face it—princess of the realm was a sweet deal. I knew this would be different, that meeting Dad for a "cavity-sized burger" at Thacker's Pub was not the same as plunking my purse in the file cabinet drawer and spending the work day at SM as an employee, albeit one with "most favored nation" status.

Truth is, I was nearly as excited as Dad when we backed out of the driveway that first morning. Mom waved from the doorway with a quivering lower lip, and I rolled my eyes.

"I think your mom wishes she could come, too," Dad observed with a wistful smile.

"I don't think the university would appreciate that too much."

"No," he answered with a soft chuckle. "I'm not sure the Music Department could survive the summer without a level head among those self-important, faculty blowhards. And frankly, I can't afford your mother anymore."

"Oh. I see how it is," I teased him. "I'm just here because I'm cheap."

"You're here because I was smart enough to snap you up before someone else did, and I don't expect to be this lucky again. So I am planning on getting my money's worth out of you this summer, Miss Swan."

His grin was so wide it made me blush. "Sure, Dad."

I was grateful—for once—for the distraction of Dad's favorite easy-listening station. We could be alone with our thoughts without it feeling heavy between us. Dad, with his enormous expectations and unbounded pride; me, with the excitement of something new on the horizon and a real chance to finally prove myself. Dad motored us quietly through the sleepy streets of West Akron, ever careful of staying within his pre-ordained seven miles per hour over the speed limit.

I think I'd have to worry about Armageddon if my father ever pulled onto a highway without running through the patented Charlie Swan five-point on-ramp routine, a set of procedures as familiar to me as putting on makeup: left turn signal, rear-view mirror check, side mirror check, uncomfortable craning of the neck, and finally, blessed acceleration. The Cressida found its opening and melted into the eastbound traffic on Route 76. While weary morning commuters all around us rode the conveyor belt dragging us all toward the brown clouds of burnt rubber hovering over downtown Akron, Dad looked for all the world like a guy heading home for a long weekend in the country.

As soon as we hit our cruising speed, Dad leaned forward to turn up the stereo. We were trapped together in an elevator-music missile shooting forward in space but backward in time. For some reason, the pop songs that were "easy-fied" were worse than the ones that were just written that way, but Dad loved them all. I don't think I'd ever seen him happier than this moment—rolling down the highway and humming along with Karen Carpenter, waiting patiently for her to get to the chorus so they could belt it out together.

"Just like me, they long to be . . . close to you."

"Ohmygod, Dad, the Carpenters, really?"

"Wah-ahahah-oh, cuh-lose to you-hoo."

You had to laugh. Or die.

I felt like there should've been trumpets heralding our arrival as the Cressida slid under the colorful string of pennants strung across the Swan Motors driveway, but Dad brought her to a rest in a humble parking spot at the far end of the lot.

_The good spots are for the customers, Bella_, he'd taught me from an early age.

I gathered my new Coach clutch, feeling all grown-up and professional, and we marched side by side toward the door. I was nervous, not gonna lie.

Ever the classy gentleman, Dad pulled open the door for me and ushered me through with a hand at my back. Clearly, my arrival was not a surprise; I knew Mrs. Cope had been saving up projects for me since February. I shuddered to imagine how he'd built this up with the rest of his employees. My cheeks were already burning hot, but that didn't faze Dad one bit.

"Everyone, here she is, my little business girl!"

I wanted to hop into one of the cars on display and drive as far and as fast as I could. I would've settled for disappearing into the concrete floor—anything but stand there in the spotlight. And yet, through all my mortification, I couldn't help but be warmed by the bright beacon of his pride.

* * *

**A/N:** Hi! *waves* I know, pretty short, huh? These chapters are going to be somewhere between 700-1000 words, and I'm planning to post more than once a week, not on any particular schedule. In case you haven't guessed, I sure was the boss's daughter in this very place in the world. Not all of the story is autobiographical (because I already told you the juicy bits when I wrote Comp Sem, REMEMBER?) but much of this IS true. Fair warning: this IS an angsty story, but it's only somewhere between 5 and 8 on Intricacy's 12-point scale.

Thank you, you lovely sweet wonderfully supportive readers who make me want to stop what I am supposed to be doing and write fanfiction again. Your reviews make me super happy. If we're not already friends, come find me on facebook (just be my friend OR join Born's Pumpkin Patch OR BOTH!) or visit my blog (where the hot stuff is!) or shoot me a PM here so we can chat. All the links are in my profile.

Much love, once again, to**_ TEAM ANGST:_** Intricacy for inspiring this (i.e.- cracking her whip over my sorry ass and then spending hours trying to teach me the difference between angst and sexual tension and demanding FEELINGS!) and for Shellshock and Chayasara for reading and taking over the whipping and keeping it classy. Mostly.

**xoxoxo ~BOH**


	2. Chapter 2

**~ 2 ~**

"Bella! Let me get a look at you! Charlie was right; you're bee-YOO-tee-full!" Mrs. Cope bolted from her rolling chair so forcefully it slammed into the partition with a thud as the large woman hurled herself across the showroom. Two giant, floppy arms squeezed the air out of my lungs, and suddenly I was drowning in peach polyester and what had to be a vat of Jontue.

"Good to see you, too," I managed to mumble into her huge chest before my sneezing jag started.

"There she goes," said a nasally voice behind me, smugly counting off for everyone while I sneezed once, twice, three times . . . and again. "Four sneezes, just like always."

_Was that ._ . .? I spun around with a start. _Jake_.

"Hiya, Bella." He stood there grinning, with those stupid dimples and those idiotic big, brown eyes that had the nerve to imply they knew me so well. I scrunched up my face and gave my father the dirtiest look I could muster, but he wasn't having any.

"Bella, I meant to tell you, I've hired Jacob for the summer. Today's his first day, too."

I was boiling, but before I blurted out something I couldn't take back, Dad's sales manager walked through the door with a donut in each hand.

"Well, looky who's here! Good thing I just happen to have a spare chocolate frosted on me, huh?"

"Jasper!" The anger drained out of me like an unclogged sink. Jasper held his arms away from his body so I could hug him without squishing our breakfast.

Customers loved Jasper—women and men alike—because he was trustworthy and sweet, and at the end of the day, he wouldn't sell a person a car unless it was the right fit. _"They'll just come back and haunt me if they're in the wrong vehicle,"_ Jasper would always say, as if people and cars had souls that needed to match.

I sank my teeth into the soft donut still warm from the oven just down the street. "Mmmm," I hummed, licking the icing from my upper lip while Jasper chuckled at my joy.

"Better be careful, Swan," Jake ragged on me. "You wouldn't want to gain the freshman fifteen while you're home for the summer!"

Before I could think of a clever comeback, Jasper elbowed Jake in the ribs. "Who's the guy with the terrible manners?"

"Jacob Black," he answered quickly, offering Jasper his hand while Dad looked on with amusement.

Jasper turned and winked at me, concealing a piece of his donut in his right palm. "Ah," he said, clasping Jake's hand and holding him there uncomfortably long. "I've heard about you."

Jake's confident grin faded, and I turned back to Mrs. Cope with a happy smile. "So . . . Dad says you've been saving up projects for me."

"I sure have, Missy. Come on. Let's get you settled in."

While I spent the morning posting sales figures to the monthly journal, Dad made wide arcs past the glass-enclosed office. "Pretend you don't see him," Mrs. Cope said without moving her lips.

I kept my eyes on the green columns in front of me, but Dad's curiosity finally got the better of him. "How's she doing, Shelly?" he asked, folding his hands on the counter and poking his face through the opening in the glass window.

"Stop spying on me, would ya?" I growled.

"We're doing just fine, Charles. Why don't you find yourself a disgruntled customer?" Mrs. Cope joked. Nothing Dad enjoyed more than undisgruntling a customer in a twist.

Dad smiled. "Sorry, girls. All our customers are happy today."

"Speaking of happy . . ."_ Ugh, no_. Dad grinned and scooted over so Jake could stick his ugly mug through the window. "Oh, hey, Bells. I just sold a car."

"Is that true, son?" Dad laughed, clapping Jake on the back not nearly as hard as I would've liked.

"Yeah," he bragged. "They're coming in tomorrow to put down a deposit."

I rolled my eyes. "He got a be-back." _Dork._

"What are be-backs?"

Dad cut in, softening the blow. "Customers who promise they'll be back. We don't count those as sales, Jacob. Not quite yet," he added gently.

"Oh." Jake's face fell. "Hey, Bells, can you change this twenty for me?"

Dad slipped away, leaving me with the pest. "Really, Jake? What's your plan? Change in all your bills one at a time today?"

"No," he whined. "Just one more. I promise."

"Fine." I sighed loudly and reached up to snag the bill as he dropped it on the counter. Just then, one of the mechanics rounded the corner toward the parts department. For one infinite second, our eyes locked together in mid-air, before he gasped sharply and continued to the parts counter across the showroom.

_Who the hell was that? And since when were mechanics ridiculously hot?_

My hands were shaking as I rang the No-Sale button on the cash register and fumbled with the thin metal arm above the twenties.

"I don't go to business school or anything, but I think a ten and two fives would do it," Jake helped.

"Shut it, Jake," I hissed, angry at myself for getting rattled. _Foolish girl._

I stood up to count out Jake's change—definitely _not_ to get another glance at the hot mechanic. He was leaning forward on the parts counter shooting the breeze with Paul while the two of them huddled together scanning the computer printout. I couldn't see his face—just his back—but it certainly held my interest: dark blue, hip-hugging work pants messy with grease stains from a hard day's work, a matching short-sleeved uniform shirt tucked in neatly at the waist, sturdy tan boots that just screamed macho—

"Uh, you want to try to _pretend_ you're paying attention here?" Heat rushed to my face as the last bill floated onto the floor. Jake stood there staring at me, his mouth twisted in a disgusted frown.

"Sorry," I mumbled as I bent to pick up the money and stuff it into his hand. "Here."

"Gee, thanks." Jake slotted the bills into his wallet and walked away from the cage.

I could feel the mechanic from all the way across the room, could feel those bright green lasers burning right through me like a pair of hot branding irons. I shouldn't have let myself look his way again. It was a mistake, and I was a girl who didn't make mistakes.

I was careful—always. I prided myself on it. I didn't drink too much, I'd never smoked pot, and goodness knows, I'd never done more with a boy than a kiss or two. It's not that I didn't want to, but I was a good girl, and I was saving myself for marriage.

But I needed a look, so I gave in—like every good junkie. I'd deal with the consequences later.

God, he was perfect in every single way that mattered. His face might've been too pretty if not for the bushy eyebrows and the dark, rough scruff on his chin and neck and just above his serious mouth. His hair was a glorious mess, and it begged for fingers to run through it—preferably mine.

_What is wrong with me? How am I so out of control? And why don't I care at all?_

It hit me after all that staring: he was staring at me, too.

I forced my lips into a nervous smile, hoping the straight line of his mouth might relax into even a minutely unguarded happy-to-see-you-too.

Instead, there was a quiver in his jaw, like he was clenching his teeth, preparing himself for a punch in the face. He shook his head side-to-side ever so slightly before turning his back to me.

* * *

**A/N:** Thank you, dear sweet readers, for your warm welcome home. I love being back here, love how you guys are getting yourselves all worked up over the mere promise of angst! I can't believe how many readers are from Ohio and even AKRON! ***shout out for the Zips!* **or how many of you felt nostalgic about the Carpenters. I love that I got some of you thinking about your relationships with your own Dear Ol' Dads-I have one of the very best on the planet. Sigh...

So, any theories on why our mechanic is clenching? (I think we all know why Bella is!) And what about Jake? Shouldn't Bella give him one more try? (Hint: NO) Until next time!

**XXX ~BOH**


	3. Chapter 3

** ~ 3~**

I was gaining new respect—or maybe it was pity—for my father if this bumper-to-bumper ride is what he put up with every single night after a long day of work. No wonder Mom always greeted him at the door with a quiet kiss and a can of Budweiser and then left him alone to "unwind and change out of his work uniform," like his suit and tie were a superhero costume.

Dad's gearshift hand was hard at work, back and forth between first and second and occasionally reaching third before hitting the next pocket of brake lights. In between shifting, Dad's fingers tapped out "Muskrat Love" until I couldn't stand it anymore and begged him to change the station.

We rolled down our windows and caught what breeze we could, though waves of heat radiated from the pavement and ricocheted off the tightly-packed cars. I closed my eyes and concentrated on not moving a muscle, on not even thinking about moving a muscle.

My mind drifted to the mechanic. I imagined him tinkering under the hood, listening with his entire being to the hidden language only he and the car could understand. In my head, he'd apply his talented hands until the engine purred for him like a satisfied lover, then put everything back together again into the pretty package that made sense to the rest of us.

I imagined him punching out and driving home. Did he live alone, or would there be somebody waiting for him with a warm hug and a cold drink? Would he leave those heavy work boots at the door, maybe take off his grimy clothes right there . . . ?

"So . . . what do you think?"

"Huh?"

Dad chuckled. "Have any suggestions for me?"

"Dad, I've had two semesters of accounting and one management class. I hardly think I'm qualified to give you advice on how to run your business after one day on the job!"

He shrugged. "Don't sell yourself short, kiddo."

He was at it again, doing that thing he'd been doing since I came home from college—shining that bright glow of expectation in my eyes.

"Okay, here's a suggestion: fire that dork of a salesman you just hired!"

"Ha-ha. I was wondering how long it would take you to get around to that. You know that boy's been itching to sell cars since he was a pup."

"A very wise man once said, 'Your employees are a mirror of your values.'"

"Jacob's a good kid. He comes from good stock. You should give him a chance."

"Dad, I've given him one hundred and seven chances." I was working up a full head of steam now. "He's like a flea, and he is biologically incapable of taking a hint."

"Bella, you can't blame the boy for trying too hard. He's been after you since third grade."

Dad squirmed in his seat. This was usually the type of conversation Mom took care of for the two of them. "I will never be interested."

"You still seeing that James character at school?"

My cheeks heated up and we both locked our eyes forward. "I thought you liked James. He's serious about his finance degree—Did I tell you he has a Wall Street internship lined up for the summer?"

"He seems all right, but you're still young. I don't want you to settle down with the first boy who turns your head."

"You wouldn't be saying that if Jake Black turned anything other than my stomach."

"Touché," he chuckled.

"Besides, Mr. One-Look-At-Renee-And-I-Was-A-Goner, whatever happened to love at first sight?"

Dad's head whipped around, all the color suddenly draining from his face. "You're in love with James?"

I'd been so sure of us two weeks ago. James really was a true gentleman, especially for a guy with so much pent-up sexual energy. He took my repeated refusals in stride, waiting for me to let him do those forbidden things he wanted so badly to do.

The familiar ripple of doubt pushed at me, and I pushed back_. It has to be love_, I argued, calling up James's handsome, clean-shaven face, clear blue eyes and dirty blonde hair. But the image was immediately distorted, like I'd been watching his reflection in a pond when somebody tossed a pebble into the water.

"I don't know, Dad," I answered quietly.

The remainder of the week dragged on. Jake was making a gigantic nuisance of himself at the cashier cage. Even Mrs. Cope shooed him away.

I came to live for the arrival of the coffee truck. Twice a day, I got to be the hero, ringing the buzzer and making the announcement over the loudspeakers, "The coffee truck is on the lot." The next fifteen minutes would be an exercise in restraint, watching my mechanic from afar in the crowd that swarmed the snack truck. I'd catch a glimpse of his hair as it caught the sun, and I'd burn to go out there, but just the thought of seeing him close up gave me a massive stomach ache.

By Thursday morning, frustration was getting the better of me. Short of finding an actual reason to be inside the Service Department, I'd have to come up with something better than my pathetic long-distance pining. My clever strategy consisted of going to the bathroom three times an hour and sneaking quick peeks through the tiny block of glass at the top of the soundproof door.

The first few times I passed the door, my heart pounded so hard I didn't dare stop, and I had to douse my face in cold water at the bathroom sink to hide my mad blush. By late afternoon, though, I'd finally worked up my nerve. Holding my breath, I lifted up onto my tiptoes and took my first glimpse inside the forbidden territory.

My eyes scanned the maze of cars and machinery and uniformed men, and my heart sank when I couldn't find him in any of the service bays visible from the window. When lunchtime rolled around on Friday, I was ready to take more drastic measures.

I plopped down into Dad's "visitor chair" with an extra loud sigh and dug through his lunch box for my sandwich. "T.G.I.F.," I said as dramatically as possible.

Dad folded his hands in front of him on the desk and chuckled. "Rough week at the salt mines, sweetheart?"

"Not really, Dad. I kind of love it here, except . . ."

He leaned forward and lifted his eyebrows. "Except?"

I gave him my best _fine-you-dragged-it-out-of-me_ look. "It's Jake, Dad. I can't believe I'm going to have to spend all summer with that bozo right under my nose."

Dad's smile took a downward turn, and his moustache went along for the ride. "It's a fairly large place, Bella. I'm sure you can manage to avoid him."

I slid the lunch box across to him. "DAD! He was at the cage twelve times today. Next week, he'll be bringing in rolls of pennies!"

He considered my complaint. "You know, if the cashier job is too much trouble for you, we can always stick you in the Service Department."

I took in Dad's implied threat, but all I could think of was my mechanic. "Fine."

Dad's mouth dropped open. "Fine?" I could tell he was annoyed enough to call my bluff-that-wasn't-a-bluff. "You really want to spend your summer cooped up in the dusty garage filing repair orders?"

It took everything in me not to give myself away. I looked down at my peanut butter and jelly sandwich. I wiggled in my seat. I even pouted a bit. I earned myself the Academy Award of Maybe-I-Shouldn't-Have-Taken-This-So-Far. I shrugged once more and made sure I didn't crack a smile when I answered. "Sure."

* * *

**A/N: **You know all those corny sayings Charlie has? Yeah, that's basically how Father Halloween speaks, especially when he used to spend all day at the dealership! I loved hearing your theories on the clenching! Some of them were so creative I may have stolen an idea or two!

What do we think of innocent little Bella now, huh? Looks like she might not be all that innocent! All righty then, it's off to the Service Department we go. Get ready for spark(plug)s to fly!

Have I mentioned how much I love seeing everyone back here again? Sighhhhhhhh.  
**XXX ****~boh**


	4. Chapter 4

**~ 4 ~**

Dad was quick to remind me there was no air conditioning out back, and I knew it would be sweltering with all the machines and engines running. Still, I did my best to put together an outfit that would feel conservative enough to say "boss's daughter" while capturing the attention of a certain green-eyed Mr. Goodwrench. I pulled on and off so many outfits, I had to redo my bun, but in the end I decided on the soft yellow strapless sundress I'd worn under my graduation gown and a pair of wedge sandals.

Dad looked up from his newspaper. "Where are the rest of your clothes, young lady?"

Nineteen years of experience told me not to take this on. I gave my mom the_ please-make-him-stop-it_ look and busied myself with the instant oatmeal.

"Charlie, she looks lovely. And it's hot as Hades back there. She'll wilt in anything else."

I held my breath until he answered. It was actually more of a long, exasperated sigh, but I recognized the sign of Dad giving in to Mom.

"Has Bella met Edward yet?" Mom asked him.

My heart thumped wildly._ Edward._ It had to be him.

"No," Dad answered, spooning Cheerios into his mouth a little faster than he had been before Edward's name was mentioned.

Mom took a pull on her coffee mug. "You should introduce them."

I stood like a statue across the room, watching the familiar push and pull of my parents' marriage and hoping they'd forget I was there and spill all the details I was desperate to hear.

Dad laughed like she'd suggested taking me to the White House. "I really don't think they have much in common, Renee."

"Pee-shaw, Charlie. He's darling and they're the same age. What else do they need?"

"Hmm, I don't know. Background, education, potential?"

Mom set down her coffee and carefully gathered up all the sections of the newspaper, rolled them all into a tight tube, and whacked Dad in the head.

"What the . . . _heck_?" he complained.

"I never knew you were a snob, Charles Swan."

His jaw dropped open. "I'm not!"

"Then stop acting like one."

His eyes narrowed and she gave him the same look right back, and they glared at each other for a few seconds before Mom stood up and laughed. "That's what I thought."

"I hate being outnumbered," Dad grumbled. "Is my lunch packed?"

"Yes, of course, _dear_," she answered. "Ham and Swiss for you, turkey for Bella."

"Bells, let's go. We're expecting a shipment of new cars this morning."

I didn't say a word when Dad cranked up the elevator music in the car, and I waited until he was good and distracted, helping out Bob Dylan with the chorus. ". . . _The answer, my friend, is blowin' in the wind . . ."_

"So who's Edward?"

Dad's entire body stiffened. "Nobody." My father was the world's lousiest poker player. The only reason he was such a successful used car salesman is that he never tried to snow a customer.

"There's nobody actually named Edward, or Edward is just some nobody?"

The engine revved as the gearshift slipped in Dad's hand, and he muttered a low curse. "He's one of my mechanics."

My heart flipped over in my chest. "So Mom thinks I should meet him?" Now I was just pushing it for the sake of the sheer thrill of talking about _him_.

Dad was being really deliberate about his driving and avoiding eye contact at all costs. "Your mother is a softie."

"So why is she soft for this _Edward_ guy?" With every repetition of his name, he became even more mine.

The entrance ramp brought us out onto the highway, and Dad shifted into overdrive. "He fell on some rough times." I waited for Dad to choose his words even though I wanted to reach in and grab the truth in one big handful. "He came to me for help . . . for a chance."

I was overcome with affection for my father. He ran his business like a family, and I knew his employees loved him like a father. Over the years, he'd received more than one awful middle-of-the-night phone call from jail when one of the guys would get himself into a mess and have nobody else to count on.

"What did you do?"

Dad shrugged, a glimmer of a smile curling up under his moustache. "I hired a kid and turned him into a mechanic. That's all."

So, Edward was that good. I turned to my reflection in the window and savored my joy privately.

But as the last droplets of happiness made their way back out to sea, Dad's earlier comments about Edward's potential washed ashore like a beachful of seaweed left to rot in the noonday sun.

* * *

**A/N:** I've shared with many of you that the setup for this Charlie-Bella dynamic is largely autobiographical. My father is a kind, amazing man who did get those phone calls at all hours for all kinds of shenanigans-and it was almost always one of the mechanics (although there once was a spectacular fist fight on the showroom floor one fateful day between his two office "gals"-now a legendary event in my family history!). Dad also hired people who needed a chance, and I'll always be proud of that. Not saying every attitude and response this Charlie has mirrors my father, but all the best things do. :) And of course, I'm only the very noblest of Bella! *wink*

Special shout-out to my SOILED team- Shell and Chaya- who will now be once again joined "behind the curtain" by Intricacy Alterite. I'll be able to give you all a new angst rating when IA gets to the good stuff!

Not too many of you were keen on giving Jake a second chance- SHOCKING! What I love most about posting here is that you all really do open my eyes to new possibilities, even though the story is largely written. Please know how much I enjoy and appreciate that, and know also that your words and ideas just might end up in a future chapter! I'll do my best to call it out but sometimes it's a subtle shift and also my memory is shite. You might not even know you've changed the course of the story! Now, don't just sit there, give me your thoughts! MWAH!

**XXX ~BOH**


	5. Chapter 5

**~ 5 ~**

I'd always liked and admired Rosalie Hale. Fierce, gorgeous, and smart, she'd always been a personal hero of mine. She was a woman making it in a man's world, a great role model for a small-town girl entering business school. But right now, she was pissing me off big time.

"Charlie, what are you thinking? You can't put Bella back here with the grease monkeys. They'll eat her alive for breakfast and spit her back out at lunch."

"How very . . . colorful, Rose," Dad answered carefully while I pulled my lower lip between my teeth and held my breath. Dad was committed to this decision whether Rose liked it or not, and he was the boss. "_You've_ managed," Dad argued.

"I'm . . ." Rose seemed truly at a loss, looking back and forth between us and finally resting her hands on her curvy hips, "_married_."

Dad grinned back at her. "Yes, I'm aware, Rose. I was the one who gave you away at your wedding last year, remember?"

"Look, Charlie," she started, then turned toward me, "and Bella, I'm just not so sure this is a place for someone so . . ."

Just at that moment, my mechanic walked through the door and pulled his time card from the tray on the wall. He slipped the card into the slot and a loud click echoed all the way across the garage to where we were standing.

_Horny_, I was thinking_. This is no place for someone so very, very horny._

"Innocent?" Dad offered. I rolled my eyes, but then Rose went and made it a thousand times worse.

"I was going to say 'virginal' actually."

The heat crawled up my neck and cheeks, and I prayed my mechanic wouldn't look over and see this awful fight, wouldn't see my dad and Rose arguing about who would hold the key to my chastity belt. Naturally, my mechanic looked right at us and everything stopped.

He saw me first, probably because I had a huge bull's-eye on my face that screamed, "I'VE BEEN THINKING ABOUT YOU ALL WEEKEND!" My face heated well past boiling as his eyes raked me over. Thank goodness he was too far away to see my nipples pull into tight little balls or to sense the perspiration that broke across my forehead and under my arms.

I heard my father whisper a faint, "Oh boy," while all this was going on, but Rosalie smiled and waved like he was just an ordinary person. "Morning, Edward."

_Confirmation_. Edward and my mechanic were one and the same. This was my father's project, the boy who for some reason was unworthy of my attention. Edward's eyes flicked to my father, and even from here, I could see the look of terror on the guy's face. I turned to see Dad's response—a tight, fake, poker-losing bluff of a smile. He nodded and waved Edward over because he really had no choice.

Edward's backpack slid off his shoulder, his eyes following his belongings to the floor and not lifting the whole journey across the room. The clunky tan boots came to a stop in front of Dad's loafers, and Edward looked up and offered Dad his hand. "Morning, Mr. Swan, sir."

Dad took his hand and looked at him like he'd sprouted wings. "What's with the formality, Edward? I thought we broke that bad habit long ago."

The poor guy turned bright red. "Sorry. Morning, Charlie," he mumbled, and I could've sworn I heard him say 'sir' again.

"Edward, I'd like you to meet my daughter, Bella." I felt Rose and Dad's eyes on both of us as Edward managed to look at me for a split second, just long enough to nod once, say, "Nice to meet you," and shuffle backwards a few steps like I repelled him.

I stared. I could only manage the smallest of doses, so I kept to his hands, the long, graceful fingers that were twisting uncomfortably and looking for a place to rest. I imagined those fingers touching my skin, and I could almost feel the sizzle they'd leave behind.

Edward lifted one hand to his hair and looked up at Rose. "I'd like to get started on that Supra?"

"Sure," she told him, and his face relaxed with relief.

He was about to leave, and I panicked, unsure when I'd be allowed to look at him again, especially at such close range.

I blurted out, "Okay, then. Go fix things," immediately after which I prayed with every fiber of my being for the floor to crack open and swallow me whole.

Edward shot Rosalie an _Are-you-sure-she's-okay-in-the-head?_ look, gave me a cautious, "Will do," and walked away.

* * *

**A/N:** And so they meet. Poor Edward and his sizzly fingers. Poor Charlie and his,"Oh boy." Poor Bella and her unfortunate blurt. Anyone ever do that? LOL. Tell me!

I had a Supra once. Damn, I really loved that car. Go ahead, Edward. Work on her. #jealousofmyoldcar

So much love to Chaya, Shell, and Intricacy for all their help with this story and everything else!

**It seems fanfic is still posting many reviews as "guest" even if you're signed in. Would you please be so kind as to sign your review so I can reply? THANKS!**

**xxx ~BOH**


	6. Chapter 6

**The chapters have been short and you guys have been so wonderful, so here's a third update for the week. Enjoy! See you down at the bottom.**

* * *

**~ 6 ~**

I somehow managed to stay busy and out of trouble Edward-wise until Mrs. Cope's announcement of the coffee truck at 10:45.

"Want anything?" Rose asked me, digging in her purse for a few dollars.

"Nah, I'm good." I didn't trust myself to be within earshot of him so soon. "Besides, I have a huge stack of repair orders to file here."

Rose laughed. "You'll have those done by the end of the day, and then I'll have to find you something else to do. Come on. Take a break. Fresh air is good for you."

My eyes caught the movement across the room. There he was, getting swallowed up in the crowd of guys moving toward the door, laughing, happy. He deserved a break, too, and he didn't need me raining on his parade. "I'm good, Rose. Really."

"Oh. Got it."

I turned back at Rose's response, and I knew she'd seen right through me, read my thoughts, and every one had Edward's name on it. I knew better than to try to bullshit Rosalie, and she was kind enough not to tease me. I felt her hand on my shoulder. "He's pretty rough around the edges, Bella. Be careful, okay?"

I didn't really understand what she meant, but I also realized that any warning was already way too late. "Yeah, sure."

I turned back to my stack of filing, and even though I was trying not to eavesdrop, I heard a bunch of the guys come back in, traveling together in a big pile like the packs of freshmen at school.

"I dunno. What?"

"The fridge doesn't fart when you pull your meat out," one of them said.

"Sweet, Seth! Totally foul!"

I didn't know this group; they stuck to themselves in the far set of bays, and they'd behaved themselves up to this point, but then again, Rose had been here to patrol their language. I locked my eyes on the file cabinet by my knees and willed my hands to stop trembling. The last thing I would do was go running to Daddy.

The heavy door across the room opened and shut; there was a palpable shift in the air.

"Yo, Embry," the grease monkeys went on, "what starts with a 'c' and ends with a 't,' is hairy, oval, delicious and contains thin white liquid?"

I hated that I was blushing, and I forced myself to keep flipping through the folders.

"Hmm, that's a tough one," Embry called back, raising his voice. "Maybe we should ask the new girl."

I couldn't ignore them any longer. I'm sure I was beet red by this point, but I lifted my face to address them head-on. The jokesters were huddled together like a pile of plastic monkeys tipped from the barrel, idiotic grins on all three faces. Standing off to the side was Edward, his jaw set and his eyes hard.

"Leave it, Seth," Edward warned in a low, calm voice, sending a tingle down the back of my neck.

Seth followed Edward's eyes over to me, then looked back and forth between us. Shaking his head with a chuckle, Seth said, "You got something against fruit, Cullen?"

I watched as Edward's forehead creased in frustration. "_What_?"

My chest grew tight with the breath I was holding, praying this would blow over quickly. Seth let out an awful bark. "It's a coconut, man! Sheesh, you have a dirty mind!"

Even from all the way across the room, I could make out Edward's mortification. Avoiding my eyes, he faced the guys and said, "You are a bunch of jackasses," before heading back toward his bay.

Unfortunately, Seth stayed. "No offense intended, Bella."

No way was I giving him the satisfaction of hearing my shaky voice. I pulled my quivering lip between my teeth and shrugged. A few minutes later, Rose came back, pausing just inside the door like a bloodhound with a fresh scent in its snout. In a very tangible way, I was the hunted. Those guys were playing a dangerous game, gambling that I wouldn't go running to Daddy, though I was pretty sure he couldn't fire someone for telling an off-color joke.

At lunch, Dad prodded me with a hundred questions about what kind of work I was doing for Rosalie and how the guys were treating me. I figured I wasn't really lying, saying everything was fine if I averaged out Edward's protection with the other guys' teasing. The whole time I sat in Dad's cushy office, I thought about how wrong it felt to eat lunch in the showroom now that I was part of the service team. It reminded me of the night Alice and I had gone "camping" in the back yard but had come into the house when _Dynasty _came on. I rushed through my tuna on wheat, so eager to get back that I was willing to forgo the potato chips.

As I pushed through the heavy steel door with the authority of my new position, I caught a glimpse of Edward outside, leaning against the building. His face was turned toward the sun and a cigarette hung from his lips. I hated smoking; it was a dirty and disgusting habit that coated your insides with ash and poison, gave you horrible breath, and turned your teeth yellow. Edward made it look like the sexiest damn thing I'd ever seen.

I couldn't look away as he plucked the cigarette from his lips and pushed a stream of smoke up and away from his mouth. The image stuck with me all afternoon, and a plan formed in my mind.

* * *

**A/N:** Boy, did I have a good time "researching" punchlines to raunchy jokes! Hmm, maybe Mollybean is right- maybe Edward IS Supra-man!

I'll never forget when Dad's mechanics did this to me as I filed repair orders! There was no Rose and no Edward to protect me, and I was so freaked out I DID tell my father. He may have even said, "Those guys are a bunch of jackasses," with that disgusted look he used to get when one of us kids or employees did something irritating. Thus ended my very brief stint in Service. Don't worry, Bella is WAY more devious than I was!

I SO love your theories about where this is going! As you can see, Bella has a plan . . .

**XXX ~BOH**


	7. Chapter 7

**~ 7 ~**

I pushed the pack of Camel Lights to the bottom of my purse and piled a few extra girl things on top—just in case. Checking my reflection in the mirror above my bureau one last time, I was surprised I didn't look guiltier.

"You look nice," Mom gushed, checking out my short-sleeve blouse and black mini-skirt. "I packed you salami today, sweetie."

"Actually, Mom, I'm gonna take my lunch in a separate bag from now on."

Dad looked up at me as if I'd just sliced off his left arm. "You're not eating with me anymore?"

"I'm in Service now, Dad. I should eat back there."

He stared at me for a long minute, then raised his newspaper. "Fine."

Mom winked again, and I knew he would get over it.

The second we arrived, I rushed to my little work space and shoved my purse—with my contraband— into the file cabinet drawer. Lunchtime finally rolled around, and I ate with Rosalie in her office, chatting about other projects she'd thought up for the remainder of my summer. I couldn't hide my fidgeting, and she finally called me out. "Your boyfriend just walked outside for a smoke."

My head whipped around to the door just as it was closing behind him.

"You gonna go talk to him or just sit here driving us both nuts?"

I popped out of my chair and grabbed my purse. My heart was pounding so hard, I could feel it in my ear drums, but I couldn't stop now. I forced open the heavy door, and Edward startled to see he wasn't alone. We had one of those _the-bear-is-more-scared-of-you-than-you-are-of-it_ moments where we just stared at each other for a couple seconds until I reminded myself I had a plan.

I nodded at him, and he did the same back at me, neither of us the slightest bit relaxed. I took my place a few feet down the wall from him and dug through my purse with shaking hands until I found the cigarettes.

It occurred to me as I was fumbling with the cellophane for the tiny red strip around the top that I was an idiot for not opening these last night. I should've taken out a few to make them look broken in. Hell, I should've practiced smoking. I had no clue what I was doing, and he was obviously some kind of expert.

"Need a light?" he asked, his gravelly voice bumping up against my nerves.

"Sure," I answered, trying like heck to get one of the cigarettes loose.

I saw his feet shuffle closer. I was sure he could hear my heart pounding, maybe even see it through my blouse. I heard a soft laugh, and he took the box from my hand. I gasped when he touched my fingers, and when our eyes met, mine told him every secret I'd been trying to hide.

His told me only that he didn't trust me.

He tapped the box into his hand and a cigarette popped out like a trained circus poodle. He held it between us, and I took it, remembering to put the filtered end into my mouth. He flicked his lighter and brought it to the tip. I took a long pull into my lungs as the tobacco caught fire, and my throat filled with a hot, painful sting. He waited patiently at my side while I hacked up all the smoke, and when I was quiet again, he asked if I was okay.

I was smoking for this boy I didn't even know. I was so not okay.

It worked though—it became our thing. He'd light me up, and we'd both pretend I wasn't doing it just to impress him. We never talked, but we stood there side by side. I liked being close to him, even though I felt pathetic for the pretense and guilty for doing something so forbidden by my parents.

After a few days—three break times per day—I wasn't half bad at this smoking thing. In fact, on Friday afternoon, I didn't even cough when he lit me up. He was watching me carefully, his own cigarette hanging over his lower lip, and I saw his beautiful green eyes narrow into slits. All of a sudden, he reached between my lips and grabbed the cigarette and tossed it to the ground, grinding it out with his heavy boot.

"What was that for?"

"You don't smoke."

I was pissed. "The hell I don't. I've been smoking all w—" _Oopsie,_ "my life."

"Is that why you couldn't open the box?"

I was mesmerized by the way the cigarette shook between his lips while he talked, but I was still pissed. I dug into my bag and tapped out a new cigarette. He got right in my face and batted it to the ground again.

"Stop it," he said.

"You stop it!"

We were at a toe-to-toe standoff, breathing hard and glaring at each other.

"Smoking is a disgusting habit."

"What gives you the right to lecture me?" I fought back.

He shook his head. "You don't want to put that shit into your mouth."

He was so close and I was so angry. "How do you know what I want in my mouth?"

I saw the now-familiar twitch at the top of his jaw. He plucked his own cigarette out and tossed it to the ground. He leaned over me, placing his hands on either side of my head, and trapped my body against the bricks. I could feel his breath on my cheeks; I could see the pink of his tongue behind his teeth. He looked mad and conflicted and desperate.

"Oh, I know exactly what you want." He leaned in so close I couldn't track his eyes. There was fire in my veins; every single part of me was alive, on edge.

"You want_ this_," he whispered. I could feel the heat from his mouth and smell the smoke in his breath. I could practically taste how much he wanted me . . . until he didn't.

He pushed off the wall with an awful groan. His head sagged on his shoulders, and he mumbled more to his own feet than to me, "Go back inside, princess."

* * *

**A/N:** Oh, Bella! How's that plan working for ya now?

I apologize if I didn't get to reply to your review or if your review appears as a "guest" because of the server glitches this weekend. I'm still happy I get to play in this sandbox for free, so I won't complain too loudly, I guess! ;)

Did anybody else find it helpful that Renee packed Bella salami? Oh, sometimes you just have to go for the cheap lunch meat joke.

Have I told you lately that you guys are the best readers in the fandom? MWAH!

**XXX ~BOH**


	8. Chapter 8

**~ 8 ~**

I spent the weekend in agony, replaying the awful scene over and over, feeling the hot shame of his rejection but knowing I couldn't let it go. There was something there in that one instant before he almost kissed me; I could feel it between us, knew I hadn't made that up. I recognized his desire, and I alternated between wanting him to suffer as much as I was . . . and wanting him to give in.

By Saturday afternoon, I was desperate to talk to someone, and I knew it wouldn't be my parents. I called Angela for advice, but my freshman roommate lived in a world of high school sweethearts and sorority pins and long, careful engagements. She told me I was crazy for "polluting my lungs for some creep who wouldn't give me the time of day," and I spent the rest of the day trying to convince myself she was wrong. I moped around the house all day Sunday, practicing my smoking technique where my parents couldn't see me.

Rose took one look at me on Monday morning and pulled me into her office. "Talk to me."

I teared up before my butt even hit the chair. "He hates me."

She didn't have to ask who "he" was. Rose came around and sat on the edge of her desk. "Bella, he doesn't hate you."

"He called me 'princess,'" I sniffled and brushed the tears away with the back of my hand.

"Did it ever occur to you that you're frustrating the hell out of him? You're the forbidden fruit, and the poor guy is dying to have a taste of you."

My whole body tingled at the thought of Edward Cullen tasting me. "Forbidden?"

Rosalie's eyebrow lifted. "Did you happen to notice that sign out front when you were driving in—you know, the one with your name on it?"

I rolled my eyes. "So what?"

She crossed her arms across her chest. "Bella, do you have any idea the tremendous respect Edward holds for your father?"

"I respect my father, too. So do you, and all the guys out front . . . and everyone else who works here."

"Yes," she said gently, "but . . . your father didn't tell you about Edward?"

I had a prickly feeling on the back of my neck. "Sure. He said he gave Edward a chance, taught him about cars."

Rose bit her lip, and I scooted right to the edge of my seat. She knew more, and I needed the rest.

"Bella, I'm pretty sure Edward would say he owes your father his life. When Edward's father died, he dropped out of high school to take care of his family. He showed up here a couple years back, really on the skids, begged your dad to give him a job. He had some great instincts with cars, but he was raw—really raw," she added with a small huff. "He worked his butt off to prove himself, and don't tell Edward this, but he's the best we've got."

An irrational burst of pride shot through me. "So what's the problem?"

Rose sighed and leaned back onto her palms. "How do you think your father would feel about your little breaks out back with Edward?"

I knew my stupid cheeks were bright red. Had Rose seen _everything_?

"Exactly," she said, answering her own question. "Let's say you two were actually to get together—for more than just a smoke . . . how would dear old Dad feel about that?"

I knew the answer to that one. My fantasies alone had me sick with guilt. I wanted things that good girls weren't supposed to want. I shuddered.

"That's what I thought," Rose continued. "And how would you like to be the boy corrupting Daddy's little girl?"

"But Edward didn't do anything!" The protest erupted from my core. It was true; he hadn't made one move to do anything but avoid me since my first day on the job, and now it was starting to become clear why.

"No," Rose agreed, "and he won't. Not if he knows what's good for him."

My heart sank like a lead ball in my chest. "What am I supposed to do, Rose?"

She shook her head sadly. "The way I see it, you can either change your father or you can give it up."

"That's no choice. I can't do either of those."

Rose slid off her desk and crouched in front of me. She wrapped her arms around me and squeezed me tight. "I know, Bella. I know."

* * *

**A/N:** Yep, Bella might be a little DENSE, the poor, inexperienced dear. :)

This story, more than any I've written recently, seems to be pulling in some new readers, which THRILLS me! I'm so pleased you're stopping by to let me know you're here enjoying the story. Each review is a gift and a gateway to friendship. Thank you so much for reaching out. If we're not already FB friends, come on over and find me, join Born's Pumpkin Patch for teasers and hot mechanic pictures. Links are in my profile.

For all you guys who have been with me before, I LOVE that you're here! (especially after some of the twisty things I've done to you in the past, not even counting 3HP!) It ALWAYS brightens my day to hear from you!

Thank you to Mtneer Fanfic for including SOILED in the Twific Trivia contest last night! The question asked whose cage Bella worked in before transferring to Service, so I'm guessing maybe unfamiliar readers now think she's a cage dancer! LOL!

Now, who thinks Edward knows what's good for him? *wink*

**XXX ~BOH**


	9. Chapter 9

**~ 9 ~**

My father didn't understand why he was all of a sudden getting the cold freeze. I knew it probably wasn't fair, but the more my hot mechanic ignored me, the more I took it out on Dad.

And the more daring I became with Edward.

I'd rush to beat him outside and light up before he could stop me. He'd glare at me, but he wouldn't give me the satisfaction of saying a word. And that wasn't all; I'd become bolder about roaming the Service Department, making up the lamest excuses possible to ask the other mechanics questions under the guise of whatever projects Rosalie had me working on.

Edward watched me like a jealous lover, and I became addicted to his angry glares. My skirts got a little shorter; my tops a little clingier—nothing Dad could notice, but Rose was so onto me. I'd taken to hanging out with the wolf pack in the far set of bays. It was the perfect vantage point for me to spy on Edward, but far enough from Rose's supervision that I didn't have to feel the burn of her disappointment. Plus, they had the added bonus of bringing out the absolute worst in Edward.

"How do you get a nun pregnant?" Embry shouted across three cars.

I was their new straight man. "I don't know. How?"

"Dress her up like an altar boy!"

There was a loud crash followed by, "Shit!" I looked over, and Edward was drenched in thick, black oil.

"What's wrong, Cullen? You push your dipstick in too hard?" Seth teased.

Edward stalked over to the deep sink in the corner and scrubbed his face and hair so vigorously I thought he'd shear off all the skin on his fingertips. When he finally turned off the faucet, his shirt was soaked through with water and motor oil. Turning his intense glower on me, he ripped the two sides of his shirt apart in a fit of frustration, sending buttons flying before stuffing the ruined shirt into the trash bin.

"Watch out, everyone, it's the Incredible Hulk!" Embry shouted, and the others laughed like wild hyenas. I was far too mesmerized by his skin-tight white tank to do anything but stare.

Edward stomped back to his bay and picked up his wrench. It was the worst kind of torture to watch his muscles ripple and roll under that tight undershirt, and I was struck by an insane wave of jealousy for the car he was studying and caring for. If he'd shown me one-tenth of the affection or concern, we wouldn't be in this awful mess right now. I didn't realize I was standing there open-jawed staring at him until the buzzer announcing the coffee truck startled me.

Edward wiped his dirty hands on his shirt and slipped out the door while I stood there rooted to the spot. He looked especially exasperated by the time I got to our private smoking hell; one leg was bent with his foot propped against the wall behind him, his eyes were tightly closed, and he was holding the cigarette between his fingers by his side. Every single thing about his posture screamed, _Leave me alone_!

I walked right up and leaned against the wall beside him, lit my cigarette, and threw the shit right into the fan. He turned his head to the side and forced open his eyes. If looks could kill, I would've disintegrated on the spot.

It had been so long since he'd said anything at all to me, I jumped at his voice. "What do you want from me?"

_Everything_.

"Nothing. Can't a person just smoke in peace?"

He huffed and gave me a super sarcastic, "Apparently not."

"Fine. You want to be alone?" I was shaking, nervous as hell that he'd say yes.

Instead, he shifted his body, turning toward me and bracing his side against the wall. There was the slightest glimmer of a smile in his eyes. "What was your first clue, Sherlock?"

I took a long drag on my cigarette, mostly because I knew it bugged him. He rolled his eyes. "What does Daddy think about your new habit?"

_Puff, puff_. "He doesn't know everything, Edward." I shouldn't have tasted his name on my tongue; it was too hard not to give myself away.

"Does he know about me?" He pulled his cigarette to his lips, but I could see him grinning behind it.

I didn't mind his tough-guy act—at least he was talking to me. "What's there to know?"

"Oh, I don't know . . ." He tossed his butt to the asphalt and ground it beneath his boot. "Maybe that you watch me all day; you like to tease me with the other guys; and oh—that you're hot for me."

My pulse was racing. "Well, aren't you full of yourself, Mr. Mechanic?"

"Yeah," he laughed darkly, "that's what's happening here." He moved closer and reached his fingers to my neck. My body jolted and the cigarette flew out of my fingers. "You like teasing me, Bella?"

My whole being was focused on those dangerous fingertips resting just above my cleavage, sliding toward my chest as he stepped forward, blocking us from view with his body, his breath warm in my ear. "_Answer_ me," he demanded.

"Yesss," I hissed.

"Good girl," he cooed. "You finally gave me one honest damn answer." His hand slid down the front of my blouse and over the cup of my bra. I moaned out loud when he squeezed me. I quickly caught myself, but I couldn't help the spike of heat between my legs.

"Uh-oh," he whispered into my ear. "Looks like I got grease on your pretty shirt."

I pulled back with a gasp and looked down at my brand new white blouse. Sure enough, there was a black smudge near my left boob. He had a vicious look on his face.

"You did that on purpose!"

He shrugged. "Dirty on the inside, dirty on the outside."

My face felt like it was on fire. "I hate you!" I yelled.

"Hallelujah," I heard him say as I ran toward the bathroom.

* * *

**A/N:** *dive bombs into pumpkin shell for cover* Yeah, that was rough. You should probably blame the people who made me write this.

LOVE teasing you guys with snippets and hot mechanics in the Patch over on FB! Today's update was accompanied by a relevant hot mechanic pic for your viewing enjoyment!

One last note- after all these years of asking you for your vote for this or that contest, here's my chance (and yours!) to nominate my favorite reviewer, blog, etc. in addition to writers and stories in every category imaginable. **twificfandomawards . blogspot . com . **Check it out!

All right...I'm ready for the wrath. Bring it! ;) **XXX ~BOH**


	10. Chapter 10

**~ 10 ~**

The black smudge blazed on my blouse like a scarlet letter the rest of the day. Even though I made up a somewhat believable story for Rose and Dad—something about stepping under one of the lifts at the wrong moment—I knew the truth about what it represented and so did Edward. He'd branded me with my own lust and called me out for my games. Every time I caught sight of the grease, I remembered his hand on my chest and the burning need down below.

Mom told me not to worry, she'd bleach it right out, but I knew that Edward Cullen was not a problem that could be solved nearly as easily. The wolf pack mechanics were no match for him, and he knew it. I needed to step up my game.

For a fleeting moment, I considered flaunting Jake in front of Edward, but even I couldn't act that convincingly. Besides, if I showed Jake the least bit of attention, he'd be attached to me for life. No, I needed something more believable, someone far more threatening.

Guilt crashed down on me seconds later. What the hell kind of girlfriend was I? Not only was I scheming how to get another guy to pay attention to me, I was planning to use my supposed boyfriend as a pawn?

_Wow, Bella, new low. This Edward guy is really bringing out the best in you._

Even as my stomach churned with all the ways my plan was so wrong, I knew I was going through with it. I waited 'til my folks were snuggled on the couch together for _Magnum, P.I._, and I slipped up to my bedroom and dialed James's house.

My gut twisted a little bit when his mother answered and seemed all excited to hear from me. After asking me a bazillion questions about my summer and my family and my job, she finally went to get James. He was out of breath, like he'd run to the phone.

"Hey, Bella. It's great to hear your voice."

"You too, James. How's your job going?"

"Ah, it's good. Busy, long hours, and the work is demanding, but I'm really enjoying it. How about you?"

_Oh, great. I fantasize day and night about this crazy-sexy guy who, incidentally, had his hand on my boob today._

"It's good," I echoed back. "Kind of lonely though." _God, I was a creep._

"Mmm," he hummed, "is that an invitation?" Just for a second, I took his hope for my own and had an optimistic pang that Mr. Right could cure me of my most unhealthy Mr. Goodwrench obsession. Maybe I wasn't such an awful girlfriend after all. Maybe this was a perfectly legitimate . . . non-booty booty call.

"Yeah." My voice sounded funny—sexy. This wasn't how I talked to James. This wasn't how I'd talked to anybody before Edward.

"Well, well, well," James chuckled. "I think you just made me an offer I can't refuse."

We chatted for a bit longer before getting down to brass tacks and plane schedules. By the time we hung up, I was sick to my stomach about what I'd set in motion. The one thing I knew about Edward was that he hated being backed into a corner. I didn't even want to think about how James would feel if he found out my true motivation.

Meanwhile, I had a couple parents to convince that a visit from the boyfriend they disliked was a great idea. I waited for the closing credits before joining them in the family room and sinking into the recliner. "So did Magnum solve the crime?"

They looked over at me like I had three heads. "Yep," Mom answered. "Thanks for asking."

"Can we help you with something?" Dad asked, suspicion lacing his voice.

"Actually, yes. I was just talking with James, and—"

"Oh boy," Dad moaned. Mom gave him a firm nudge with her elbow. "Mmhmm?" she encouraged.

"He wants to come visit."

"That's great!" Mom said cheerfully. Dad gave her one of his _Really, Renee_? looks, and she nodded at him and kept nodding the whole time she was talking, like she was reasoning with a mental patient. "Yes, I think it'll be great for Bella to see her _boyfriend_. Don't you, dear?"

"Oh, yes," Dad answered, nodding like a loon himself. "Right. Yes. Her boyfriend. Your boyfriend. Yes."

I watched the two of them closely, wondering if they'd hit the Boone's Farm before their TV show but not really wanting to ask too many questions since this was going my way. "Okay, then. It's settled. James has the Fourth of July off. He's watching fireworks with his family on Thursday, but he can come up after that. I can pick him up at the airport Friday morning and bring him to work with me—"

"Bella, you don't have to work on Friday. James will be bored silly at the lot all day. You should show him around town, take him to Quaker Square."

"No, Dad, I think he wants to talk to you about a new car anyway, so it's all good. Plus, he kind of wants to see where I've been spending my time."

"That's so romantic," Mom gushed.

Dad gave her a confused look, and I didn't even try to figure out what the hell was going on between them. It was settled, and that's all that mattered.

* * *

**A/N:** Oh, Bella, I think you might be onto something here. Yes, this is a fine plan! Bahahaha!

In the late 70's, a developer purchased the old Quaker Square silos in downtown Akron, Ohio, and converted them into a beautiful hotel, the gimmick being that all 196 rooms are ROUND! I worked in the hotel's back office my last summer before college, so it has a special place in my heart. The attached mall features a general store, where they bake fresh oatmeal cookies all day long. I'm not saying it's worth a trip to Akron or anything, but if you DO go, don't miss the cookies!

I hope you're enjoying the blast from the past, a bit of flavor from my "formative years." :) Does anyone remember when you actually had to go to the phone to answer it? Or when all the inhabitants of a house actually shared one line? Or when you had to call after 11 pm because it was cheaper? Yep, I'm almost old. :)

I love you guys and your theories and flaily fun responses to these two and their bad behavior! MWAH! Thanks for being here and playing with me in the patch!  
**XXX ~BOH**


	11. Chapter 11

**~ 11 ~**

". . . And this is Rosalie, my boss."

James gave her his most charming smile and his Wall Street hand shake. "Pleased to meet you."

"Very nice to meet you, James. I hear you're a finance guy."

"Mmhmm. I'm working with Chemical Bank this summer, and . . ."

Bingo! I caught Edward's curious glare over Rose's shoulder. He gave a little scowl and disappeared again behind the partition.

". . . so a few more eighty-hour weeks and then back to the grind of classes, I guess."

"Hey, Rose. Is it okay if I give James a tour?"

Rose narrowed her eyes at me. "I think it's a pretty bad idea, actually. We're not insured for visitors, Bella. Besides, he looks kind of dressed up for the garage."

"Oh, he doesn't mind if he gets a little dirt on his loafers. Do you, James?" I wasn't a batting eyelashes kind of girl, but I did my best coquette imitation.

"Actually, babe, I think your boss has a point."

Outnumbered and outmaneuvered, I sighed and started working on Plan B. It turned out to be easier than I thought. James had a real sweet tooth, so when the buzzer sounded for morning break, I made my first trip ever out to the coffee truck with him.

The mechanics tumbled out the garage door on a wave of laughter, Edward following sullenly behind. He stopped dead in his tracks when he looked up and saw us standing by the truck, holding hands. I walked us right over to him. "Edward, I'd like you to meet James LeBlanc, my boyfriend." The label made Edward flinch, and that muscle at the top of his jaw popped and rolled just beneath the surface. "James, this is Edward Cullen, one of our mechanics."

God, I was being a little snot taking ownership of him like that, and judging by the way his eyes narrowed at me, Edward didn't like it one bit. For a second, it looked like he might call me on it.

Oblivious to the mounting tension, James pulled me into his side and extended his right hand. "Nice to meet you."

"Hey, man," Edward managed, shaking James's hand but refusing to meet my eyes. "So . . . you and Bella, huh?" Edward's grin sent a cold shiver down my back. I was starting to think this conversation wasn't such a great idea.

James, not catching the edge in Edward's words, turned a bright smile in my direction and gave my hand a possessive squeeze. "Yeah, I badgered this one relentlessly until she finally wore down and agreed that we were perfect together."

Edward chuckled. "She must like badgering."

I felt like a tennis ball being batted back and forth, and James didn't even know Edward was toying with me.

James laughed back. "I wouldn't exactly say she liked it, but when you really want someone, you do what you gotta do." Turning back to Edward, he added, "Ya know?"

Edward looked at me for the first time during this whole exchange, his gaze cool as steel. "What about what the other person wants?"

_I don't want you, Bella, _those eyes said_. How about you stop badgering me?_

Good ol' James wasn't about to show remorse. With an easy shrug, he answered, "Sometimes, people don't know what's good for 'em."

I wanted to roll my eyes at James, but I also wanted to cheer and gloat because he'd basically told Edward to just give up the fight. I stood a little taller and gave Edward a _What-do-you-think-about-that?_ smirk.

"And sometimes, they do." Edward's answer was curt and final. "I need to grab a snack. Nice meeting you, James."

I watched Edward's back move toward the front of the line, then disappear around the corner of the building.

"What's good here, babe?" James asked. I looked over his shoulder at the selection of Danishes with bright jelly centers and at least six different kinds of muffins and donuts.

"I have no idea. I never come out here."

James looked around him, seemingly noticing the high male-to-female ratio for the first time. A wide smirk crossed his face. "Good. This is no place for a lady."

I took a quick peek at my watch while James picked out his pastry—only twelve minutes left. Time to push the envelope. I led James around the side of the building, keeping our banter flirty and light.

"Is that sweet enough for you?" I teased.

Picking up on my mood quickly, he answered, "Not half as sweet as you."

"Is that right?" I swung our joined hands and smiled up at him like he was the sun. The very hot sun.

Just before I let James kiss me, I saw the telltale waft of smoke curl around the corner.

"Mmm," I hummed. I opened my mouth for James and we made loud sucking noises together. When we ran out of oxygen, James pulled back and laughed. "Wow, babe. You really _were_ lonely."

The smoke evaporated and I heard a soft swish on the pavement, heavy steps, and the slam of a door.

* * *

**A/N:** Oh my goodness! Loud sucking noises followed by slamming doors? I'm starting to have my doubts about this plan! And James is a weenie.

I love that so many of you knew exactly what I meant about sharing one phone line! It's lovely to have "experienced eyes" on my story!

Happy October, everyone! The leaves are turning here in Boston, and it is the most gorgeous warm fall weather. :) MWAH!  
**xx ~BOH**


	12. Chapter 12

**~ 12 ~**

James was the elephant in the car Monday morning, and I was surprised when Dad brought the subject out in the open.

"James has pretty good taste in cars, too." He must've felt safer chatting this way since there was no way he'd take his eyes off the road.

_Ah, here we go_. "Too?"

Dad rapped his thumbs on the steering wheel, trying to play it cool, but the blush had already crept up his cheeks. "You know, girls . . . _you_."

"So the guy buys one little car from you, and now you're his biggest fan?" This was amusing.

Dad's profile crinkled in confusion. "I don't understand you, Bella. I thought you wanted me to like James."

I sighed. I did. Then I didn't. "He's fine."

"Fine? What happened to love?"

_No._ If this weekend had accomplished nothing else, it had at least solidified that fact in my mind. I guess I shouldn't blame James for being confused after the bone-crushing kiss, but I was pretty sure he got my message when he tried to unbutton my shirt later that night. I batted his hand away and he called me a little cock tease and growled about being summoned to the rubber capital and not even getting to use one himself.

"Nah, Dad. Sorry. He's not the one."

Dad settled into his seat and blew out one of his I'll-never-understand-my-daughter sighs. He seemed too baffled to attempt any other conversation, but Rose made up for it the second I walked into her office.

"How was your weekend with Richie Rich?"

I rolled my eyes, and we had a little giggle together.

"On the upside," she said, "you've really managed to piss off Edward. I don't think I've ever seen him quite this agitated."

Rosalie's genuine concern for her employee was written all over her face, and I felt like a real shit—again. "I'm sorry."

"Are you?" She stared me down with those big blue eyes Emmett probably loved to get lost in, but to me, they were nothing more than lie detectors giving me a failing grade.

"I don't know. No, probably not." I was pleased but I was also miserable. Having him mad at me wasn't exactly my goal. I just wanted a sign that he gave a damn.

"You're going to have to work this out with him. I'm actually afraid he's a little unsafe right now."

"Okay, Rose. I'll try to get him to talk to me this morning."

Easier said than done. At morning break, he disappeared. No coffee truck, no smoking wall, and no bathroom—I had one of the guys check for me. I pouted and vowed to keep better track of him at lunchtime.

I shoved my lunch bag inside my purse and kept my eyes on the time clock. At twelve noon exactly, Edward grabbed his card and punched out. I followed him through the door, keeping a safe distance, which wasn't difficult considering how quickly he was walking. He crossed the entire lot, then unlocked a pickup truck in the employee lot and hunkered down inside the cabin.

I knew he was going to be grouchier than a half-starved lion, but I had no choice. I snuck up on the passenger side and knocked on the window. He startled, his eyes popping wide open, then instantly narrowing with anger. "What the hell do you want?" he growled.

_You_.

"Can we talk?"

"No! Go away."

I opened the door, stunning him into momentary silence. "That's trespassing!"

I rolled my eyes and tossed my purse inside, then followed with the rest of me. "Do you have any idea how difficult you are?"

"Me? Ever taken a look in a damn mirror, Dr. Princess and Mrs. Tease?"

"Stop calling me princess!" I grabbed my purse onto my lap and started digging inside for my smokes. My hands were shaking as I tapped one out into my palm.

"What the hell do you think you're doing now? You can't light up in here!"

"Why not? I don't see a 'no smoking' sign."

Edward grabbed his head in both hands. "Oh my god, you're actually making me lose my mind."

I had my lighter poised in my hand, but I couldn't do it. I wasn't about to disrespect his rules for his own truck. I dropped everything into my handbag, threw it down by the floorboards, and sighed a loud, exasperated sigh. "What. Is. Your. Damage, Cullen?"

He stopped his head-holding long enough to look over at me. He seemed to be weighing his options, and once he decided, his face screwed up into a mean scowl. "I'm not interested in you. You can fake-smoke and parade your stupid boyfriends under my nose and tease me with your big tits and your tight little ass, but you're a Daddy's girl through and through, and I don't want you. I will _never_ want you."

His words churned into a toxic brew. "I'm not a Daddy's girl!"

Shifting toward me in his seat, he challenged, "Oh yeah? Prove it." His eyes raked down my body, and I could feel his need. I knew he was lying when he said he didn't want me.

"How?" A thrill shook me. I would've done anything he'd asked right then.

"Give me your panties."

I gasped, sending a fresh rush of embarrassing fluids into those panties he wanted so badly. His mouth twisted into a grimace. "Yeah, that's what I thought. Get out of my truck, Princess."

"No!"

His eyebrows popped up, and his hand shot out. "Should I count to three?"

God, he could be a bastard when he wanted, but there was never a choice. He watched with greedy eyes while I lifted my rump off the seat and slipped my hands under the hem of my skirt, and his frown twisted into a cruel smile as I complied with his terms. Our eyes were locked as my thumbs hooked the corners of my bikinis and slid them down my thighs. That place between my legs was warm and sticky and wet, and I felt like pure sin.

I dropped my eyes to his lap and had myself a good, long look. Just beneath his beige belt was a thick mound that had to be his erection_. I knew it!_ He wasn't made of stone after all—well, part of him might be hard as granite right now—but he was at least a human being with feelings and needs.

My bottom dropped back onto the seat as the panties glided over my knees. _You're a slut, Bella. You're sitting in a boy's truck without underpants and thinking about his penis. This boy is turning you inside-out and upside-down_ and you're letting him!

Instead of stopping, like a semi-sane human being, I stepped out of those panties one foot at a time and threw them at his face. "Happy now?"

He caught them against his nose and mouth with one hand and made a big show of taking a deep sniff. "Oh, hell yes."

"You're such a pervert."

He smiled. "I'm not the one going back to work without my underwear."

I shouldn't have said it. "At least I'm not walking around with a big, hard . . ." _And there it was_, the good girl who couldn't even form the word.

"Say it, Swan. Can you even say it?"

_God, he was so exasperating! _I screwed up all my courage, took a deep breath, and yelled, "Boner!"

His jaw dropped open, and I could swear I saw respect in his eyes. Once that word popped out, it's like everything behind it—all the words I'd bottled up inside me all summer—came spilling out like uncorked champagne.

"Oh, poor Edward. What's the matter? Upset you can't hide behind all your cruel smirks and nasty accusations? You think _I'm_ the tease? How about the way you strut around the garage with your . . . _tools_ and your . . . _muscles_ and your pouty face, huh? You don't think that's teasing?"

I was in full-blown tirade mode, and there was no stopping me now. "How about your almost-kisses and your hot breath blowing on my neck? Are you going to sit there and tell me you felt nothing when you were feeling up my . . ." _Don't say breast, don't say breast_ ". . . my _tit_?"

My hands were shaking and I could hear the tremor in my voice. It didn't help that he sat there all smug and had the nerve to ask, "Finished?"

"Finished? I don't think so. We haven't even gotten to the part where you ripped off my panties—"

"You took them off yourself!" he interjected, only making everything a thousand times worse.

"Oh, and was I the one to shove them up your nose as well?" I was starting to hyperventilate.

"Holy shit, Bella. Take it easy."

_Take it easy?_ Frustrated tears pricked at my eyes, but I wouldn't give him the satisfaction. I gathered my purse from the floor and plucked open the door handle. I gave him one last steady glare.

"Screw you, _Cullen_."

My feet hit the ground and I went running.

* * *

**A/N: **I didn't think anybody wanted to see more of her alone time with James (blech) so I've glossed over it with my magic author paintbrush. As for the passion she's aroused in poor Edward, that poor boy is a mess. God, I love him.

**XXX ~BOH**


	13. Chapter 13

**~ 13 ~**

_I need a cigarette._

The realization terrified me, but at the same time, I found it irrationally comforting. I stopped and looked all around me. Having run blindly with the singular thought of getting away from Edward, it took me a second to realize I was standing in the middle of a parcel of dusty, undeveloped, rarely-used land that Dad had presumably purchased back when real estate was a no-brainer. Swan folklore had it that the transaction had taken place on Mom and Dad's fifth wedding anniversary, forevermore earning the slab of tundra the nickname, "Renee's back lot."

I dropped to the ground right where I stood, digging frantically in my bag for the Camels. My hands were shaking so hard, it was a miracle I got the flame to light, let alone connect it with the cigarette.

I took a long drag on the cancer stick, pulling the tar and nicotine and all the rest of the lung-blackening poisons into my body. _He's killing me, _I concluded. Six weeks ago, I'd walked into the showroom a happy, healthy, good person, and look at me now—I'd turned into a mean, slutty cock-tease who'd used my own boyfriend (the guy I was supposed to be in LOVE with!) to try to trap another guy who wanted nothing to do with me. Here I was, sitting in the dirt in a short skirt with my sopping wet girl-business flapping in the breeze. I needed about fifteen hot showers, and a hug wouldn't hurt either.

The tears were running freely now, turning my filter into a soggy, salty sponge. I couldn't even smoke right. In a fit of disgust, I pounded the cigarette into the dirt beside me.

"Finally. One good decision."

The boots pulled up beside me, and I covered my face with my hands. "Go away."

"No."

"I hate you," I spat.

"I hate you, too," he answered back.

"You ruined my life." I thought he should know.

I peeked between my fingers. How was it I wanted those boots to leave and never come back at the exact same time I wanted them to stay forever? _God, this guy has me so twisted up inside, I'll never unravel!_

The boots shuffled in the dirt, kicked away a rock, and I held my breath. I waited with twisted anticipation for him to tell me I ruined his life, too.

His knees landed with a soft thud in front of the boots, too close to me, and he sat back on his heels. I dropped my hands from my face, but I kept my focus at ground-level. Two hands appeared on his thighs, tense, dug in. A voice, so soft I wasn't sure I heard it right, said, "I'm sorry."

I was afraid to ask him to repeat it, so I looked up instead. The green eyes that had been glaring and smirking and mocking me all summer now just looked defeated and sad—like mine, I imagined. Great, now he was ruined, too.

"What are you sorry for? You didn't do anything." Honestly, could he be blamed for having muscles and a pretty face? All he'd actually done all summer was do his best to stay away from me.

"I did exactly what I wasn't supposed to do, Bella." My heart flipped over when he said my name in that gentle voice I'd never heard him use before. "I fell for you."

I responded with the first stupid thing that came to mind—utter disbelief. "You _did_?"

He squinted at me a little, like he thought I was teasing him. His hands kind of twitched, then drew up toward his lap. _Oh. That_. He caught my eyes on the way back up, and I felt the awful blush rising from my neck like a thermometer dumped into boiling water.

"Shit, that's not what I meant," he fumbled, turning a nice shade of pink himself.

I figured I was about at rock bottom, so it seemed like I didn't have much to lose. "So you _don't_ want me?"

"Of course I want you!" He answered so quickly and with such a shocked tone that I knew he was telling the truth. The hard-on he was covering up was also a fairly good indication. "But you're more than all that. You have to know, Bella, you're so much more than all that."

_"I am?"_ God, I truly sounded like a dork. I didn't know anything about being "more than that" to anybody, though if I'd had room in my head for one unmuddled thought, I would've realized that he was more than that to me, too.

He shook his head side to side and looked at me like we were from different planets. "You don't have a clue, do you?"

I shrugged, already feeling stupid and frustrated and embarrassed and how much more could a girl take? "Give me a damn clue, would you?"

"Bella, when I first came to Charlie, I begged him to let me prove myself, and I've spent every minute of every day doing just that. While I worked my way up, I was fed a steady stream of stories . . . from your dad . . . about his perfect daughter. Hell, he even showed me pictures of you. I don't think he had any idea what he was doing to me . . . until that day he introduced us."

_Good god, he had feelings for me before we'd even met?_

"He pulled me aside later that day and read me the riot act and made me swear not to tell you . . . so much for that, I guess."

"Are you telling me he threatened your job if we . . .?" My head swam with the possibilities.

"Pshhh, yeah. It's not an idle threat, Bella. He can do whatever he wants. I'd never fight him anyway. He has been way too good to me. I just never imagined it would be so damn hard to stay away from you."

* * *

**A/N:** Awww. Poor Edward. Why did Charlie do that to him? HE's the tease! Silly bragging Daddy! By the way, my father DID buy Mom a lot for one of their early anniversaries, but the nickname is all mine! ;)

Those of you hoping for a little more of EPOV, I hope this helped you see a bit inside that mysterious messy head!

Okay, so now we know why he was fighting off his urges. We have two people with strong passions here. What do you suppose they are going to do about it?

Thanks for the love and support for me and the story. If ff decides to pull this story (or any other), I will continue posting on my blog (link in my profile). You can always find me on FB as Born OnHalloween or in Born's Pumpkin Patch. Hopefully, we can all stay right here and play! :)

**XXX ~BOH**


	14. Chapter 14

**~ 14 ~**

His confession rocked me. I just couldn't decide if that made everything better or worse. There was a part of me that was completely thrilled to finally learn that I hadn't completely misinterpreted all those mixed messages he'd been sending. An even larger part of me was flying inside—my mechanic wanted me! And not just for _that_, but for something deeper. I was insanely pleased to think he might respect me for my mind, even though I'd been acting like a complete idiot around him since day one.

But I had to admit there was still another part, a nagging voice I guess I'd have to call my conscience, which knew this was all going to end very, very badly for all of us. If only I'd listened to that voice instead of letting the rest take over . . . but there was no hope of that happening once Edward reached for my face and pulled me to his waiting lips.

I was grossly unprepared for the experience of kissing Edward. Those lips that had been drawn into two tight lines for so much of the summer were surprisingly soft and smooth and inviting. I opened right up for him like a flower greeting the morning sun. His tongue pushed into my mouth and pressed and slid up against mine. Smoke and mint and soft, wet desire. He tasted like honesty—finally—and I drew him inside me. _This is real, _I kept thinking_. This is happening, and this is the real thing._

I must've surprised him with the force of my response because he fell forward, toppling us both into the dirt. I barely noticed the pebbles poking into my back or the grime seeping into my hair, not with Edward on top of me, owning my mouth and mashing every part of him against the length of my body.

_I want, I want, I want . . . _

My hands got busy, bunching up his shirt and yanking it from his pants, tugging away the undershirt along with it. He groaned deep into my mouth as my hands met the bare flesh of his back. I scratched my way up the smooth skin, and his hips flexed and rolled on top of me.

_Touch, response_. I'd found my new favorite game.

Not breaking our kiss for an instant, Edward slipped one arm beneath my head to cradle me from the rugged earth, while his other hand worked open my blouse two buttons at a time. He had me quivering with want, so greedy that even his rough hand inside my bra wasn't even close to enough. For a girl who didn't do this, my body sure as hell knew what it needed and apparently, it knew how to get it.

Spurred on by loud, urgent kisses and Edward's low grunts, I opened my thighs and lifted my hips to the hard swell between his legs. His hips thrust and retreated, the motion forcing my skirt up and out of the way. I was grateful for his clothes between us because I had no idea what might've happened otherwise.

I turned my head so I could suck in some oxygen, and I felt his tongue licking its way down my neck. We rocked our hips against each other, the pressure mounting and spreading.

"Ohgodohgodohgod!" I was so turned on, I couldn't control myself. I forced my hands down the back of his pants, inside his underwear, and I squeezed his bottom. He hissed against my chest and grasped my nipple between his teeth. My ankles hitched behind his back and I humped him like a dog in heat, lifting and opening for him shamelessly. I was pretty sure I'd die if we stopped.

I buried my face in his hair to cover the stream of animal noises spewing from my mouth. His fingers found my wet slit and slipped inside, finding secret places that must have been waiting just for his touch. His thumb brushed against my opening, and a tornado started in the pit of my belly. I pulled Edward against me as hard as I could, holding on for dear life while pleasure racked my body.

_Just don't move_. As if he read my thoughts, Edward stilled for an instant on top of me, then pumped his hips with wild abandon, grunting and hissing into my boobs. We rocked each other to oblivion and came back to our senses with our mouths joined again. With the urgency drained out of us, our kisses were gentle.

He rolled off me and flipped onto his back, turning his head my direction and watching me. He pushed my grungy hair off my face and his lips curled up into a naughty smile. "Whoops."

My heart soared at our first light-hearted moment together. Little did I realize, it was to be our last.

* * *

**A/N:** Shall I leave you all here in paradise in the back lot for a while?

I am still reeling over the response to my one little line about breeze flapping. You guys are just awesome! Your predictions intrigue me- how you have them plotting and planning! These two are way too much of a hot mess for all that thinking at this point!

OH, how I love your reviews! Thank you for every one.  
**XXX ~BOH**


	15. Chapter 15

**~ 15 ~**

"Jesus Christ, Bella. What are you thinking?" Rose had never used such a harsh tone with me, and it cut me to the quick. She yanked my arm and pulled me into her office, slamming the door behind us with a sideways kick straight out of _Kung Fu_. "Are you actually trying to get us all fired?"

Shame and guilt took their turns with me. It had never occurred to me that I might be jeopardizing Rose's job as well. "I'm sorry, Ro—"

She held up her hand to silence me as she picked up the phone on her desk and started dialing. "Hi, Al. Yeah, it's me. I need your help. It's an emergency. No! No, sorry, Jasper's fine. This is . . . more of a fashion emergency."

Rose rolled her eyes at herself and pushed on. "Size two cotton-poly black mini-skirt and short-sleeved, collared, white button-front on the Ann Taylor spectrum." Rose eyed my chest. "Medium. Not too poufy in the sleeve department. Okay, yes . . ." she consulted her watch, "that's perfect. Thanks, Ali. You're a lifesaver."

She hung up the phone, and I braced myself. "I can't allow you back here anymore, Bella. You're a great girl. You have a bright future in business and I love you, but somebody is going to get hurt."

_Banished. _The oxygen was sucked out of my lungs. It was over. I knew better than to try to push Rosalie on this.

"Go wait for me in the bathroom and start praying that your father doesn't choose today to become observant."

_Oh, shit. My father_. "What am I supposed to tell my dad?"

"Tell him whatever you want—or I will tell him the truth. Understand?"

"Yes. And I really am sorry, Rose."

She looked me over with a sad shake of her head. "I hope it was worth it."

I forced myself from the chair and dragged my heavy limbs to the door that would take me out of the Service Department forever. Rose's instructions were clear— I wasn't to make a detour via Edward Cullen's work bay, but that didn't stop me from looking back one last time. It did me no good, as it turned out; he wasn't there.

The hour I passed alone in the bathroom was excruciating. I washed up quickly at the sink but immediately escaped to one of the stalls, where I wouldn't be seen or have to look myself in the eye. It was hard to believe how quickly I could go from the best minutes of my life to the absolute worst.

I tried replaying Edward's sweet assurances, but any comfort I might have gleaned evaporated as his words sifted through the filter of my new reality. _If_ we were lucky, and _if_ Dad didn't discover our little roll in the dirt, and _if _Dad didn't fire Edward and Rosalie and me, then my best-case scenario was going back to glimpsing Edward amidst the coffee truck crowd twice a day and pretending nothing happened between us. I couldn't even let my mind wander into the darkness of what might happen otherwise. That was enough to have me retching over the bowl.

At 2:45, a brown paper bag from the A&P slid under my stall, and Rosalie left without saying a word. Alice was good, a shopping savant. I pulled on the new clothes and stuffed the old ones back into the bag and deep into the trash can. Dad was a little surprised to see me, but I simply told him that Rose had run out of work for me. Mrs. Cope happily welcomed me back and set me to some mind-numbing column adding, which was exactly what I needed. As Dad and I rolled out of the lot at the end of the day, I held my eyes forward and did my best not to cry. It didn't help when _Puff, the Magic Dragon_ came on the radio, but at least Peter, Paul, and Mary gave me a reason for my scratchy eyes. As horrific as the day had turned, it seemed like I'd dodged the bullet and that my heart would be the only casualty of the day, and for that I was going to be forever grateful.

* * *

**A/N:** Was it worth it? Oh, but wait, maybe everything will be okay?

I still cry every single time Jackie Paper dies.  
**XXX ~BOH**


	16. Chapter 16

**~ 16 ~**

Ironically, it was my mother who unraveled the first thread. Mom, who always had my back with Dad in matters of all things female, asked the innocent question when we walked through the door.

"Bella, what are you wearing?"

I had no story prepared, foolish me, but even if I had used my hour in seclusion to concoct a story, I still could never have lied convincingly to my parents. No, my best chance—my _only_ chance—was answering the questions somewhat within the wide swath of the truth and praying I wouldn't give anything away.

"I had to get a change of clothes. I had a little run-in with a dipstick."

"What?" Dad barked. "I knew putting you in Service was a terrible idea."

"Relax, Charlie. You told me Bella's not going back." What comforted Dad was a dagger through my heart.

Dad's eyes rolled to the ceiling; he let out an exasperated huff and sank back into his armchair.

"So, how'd you get the new clothes?" Mom pressed.

"Alice."

Dad sat up a little straighter. "Alice came to the dealership, and she didn't come out front to say hello? She and Jasper can't keep their hands off each other for five minutes."

My heart skipped a beat, but I kept my cool. "Exactly. She didn't want to disrupt him at work."

Dad's eyes narrowed. "Let me get this straight. She came in . . . the _employee_ entrance? . . . snuck inside the Service Department, dropped off your clothes, and _left_?"

In fact, that was exactly what Alice had done. "Yes." It was the easiest, most truthful answer that boosted Dad into full-on interrogation mode.

He cocked his head. "Tell me again how you ruined your clothes?" He was forcing me into a corner, and we both knew my next move was either a confession or a lie. My nervous system was working overtime to manage the rush of adrenaline pumping into my system—my face was on fire; my hands were clammy, and my underarms were producing sweat by the bucketfuls.

"I . . . I . . ." Guilt had completely dissolved the glue holding together my flimsy deception, and my house of cards was about to collapse.

"Bella?" Again, it was Mom who was my undoing, this time with a compassionate, knowing, gentle nudge. I broke down and sobbed my eyes out, and Mom ran her hand through my hair while I rocked on the couch, recounting my story. Dad sat in his recliner, cursing to himself and watching his perfect daughter turn into a real girl, complete with sexual needs, right before his eyes.

Even in the throes of my angst-riddled storytelling, I was careful to defend Rose and Edward. Not surprisingly, Dad was much quicker to let Rose off the hook, but Edward was another story. Dad paced and pulled at his moustache when I described our kissing, and from the reaction that got, there was certainly no way I could've told him anything else and expect him not to murder Edward or me or both of us. Dad was fuming and muttering about how Edward betrayed him after all he'd done for the boy.

"Charlie, they're kids," Mom pleaded, squeezing my hand tight.

"How many times did I warn that boy to stay away from my daughter?" He pounded a fist into his opposite palm, and I imagined Edward's beautiful nose at the other end of Dad's knuckles.

"It was my fault, Dad."

That got his attention. "How do you figure?"

"He's been trying to push me away all summer, but I keep . . . pushing back." I was mortified, but it was the truth.

Dad huffed and shook his head. "I know what twenty-year-old boys are like, Bella. I used to be one, remember?"

"Dad, I swear—"

"Yes, you do. And your hair is filthy and there's a huge gash on your knee . . . you're not the same girl I drove to work that first day."

I jumped from the couch. "You're right; I'm not! I'm sick and tired of you trying to keep me inside a glass display case. I'm growing up, Dad, and you can't stop it!"

Mom stood up and put herself between us. "Okay, can we all just relax and take this down a notch, please?"

"I can take it down a hundred notches. I'm going outside to have a smoke."

Both of them gasped, and I realized I'd just hammered the final nail into my coffin. "You smoke?" Quiet and scared, Mom's question was more painful than any kind of yelling.

"Yes. And just so you know, Edward tried to get me to stop. On numerous occasions."

"That does it!" Dad stormed out of the room and headed for the car.

"Where are you going, Charlie?" Mom cried out.

"I'm going to have a word with Mr. Happypants."

"Can't it wait for work tomorrow?"

My heart fell onto the floor and smashed into a million pieces when he answered. "That boy won't have a job tomorrow."

* * *

**A/N:** Mr. Happypants. Just wanted to say it again.

Many of you questioned why Rose felt she would be fired over this tryst (or why Charlie would really be so upset if he knew). Let me offer this. Rose does feel responsible (at least ethically) for keeping Bella somewhat supervised. Obviously Bella and Edward's behavior is outside her control, BUT she IS responsible for the safety of her department. She's already noted that Edward is acting unsafely (oil spill anyone?) and Rose feels that Bella is distracting him in a dangerous way. Would that disappear if they were allowed to date openly? Maybe. Maybe not. Rose doesn't want to be standing among the power tools with the flying sparks, and I can't blame her. Charlie might know stuff about Edward that Bella doesn't AND he might also be acting like an overprotective dad. Either way, direct communication may or may not be helpful, but keeping secrets might just feel safer to the kids.

Some of you suggested Renee could solve all the problems between Charlie and Bella, so I'm guessing maybe you're disappointed at how this went down. I get that. There were certainly many ways to go. Let me give you a little perspective on my choice. Renee didn't have much chance to pull Charlie aside in this scene without emasculating him. My guess is they'll talk when he cools off a little and they're out of Bella's earshot. Until then, she's going to trust her husband to be level-headed and do the right thing, because they've been married a long time and he is a kind, gentle man and a compassionate leader (or at least, he was before his daughter mixed him up).

Your questions and challenges keep me honest, and I appreciate every one. AND of course I still love you, maybe even more.

**XXX ~BOH**


	17. Chapter 17

**~ 17 ~**

The two hours that Dad was gone were a thousand times worse than my solitary confinement in the ladies' room. Mom tried to come outside and comfort me, but the sight of me smoking was more than she could bear. Luckily, she was smart enough to go back inside before the two of us blew up at each other. I didn't need any more enemies right now. Dad, Rose, and soon Edward would be more than I could ever hope to bear.

My heart skipped a beat as the headlights of the Cressida lit up our slice of Wyndham Road, and I snuffed out the cigarette I'd just started and popped up from the front stoop. I was blinded as the car turned up the driveway, but I didn't shield my eyes. I needed to face the cataclysmic event I had caused.

Dad pulled the car carefully into the garage, then walked around to the front door, where I was pacing tiny steps back and forth across the concrete slab.

"Well?" I demanded.

Dad looked exhausted and sad and heartsick. "Well what, Bella?"

"Did you fire him?"

He paused, placed his hands on his hips, and glared at me. "What choice did I have?"

The news pierced like an arrow through my heart. "Oh, I don't know," I said as calmly as my devastation would allow. "Maybe be reasonable and understanding and give two people another chance?"

Dad stepped closer, until I could see the tears in his eyes glistening in the porch light. "He told me everything, Bella."

I refused to let myself think about how we rutted against each other in the dirt; I couldn't take a chance that Dad would see that reflected in my eyes. "What did he say?"

Dad shook his head sadly and dropped his eyes to our feet. "The teasing, the smoking . . ." _Please, God, do not say anything about my panties. _"I've been a real fool, haven't I? Trusting the two people I never thought would betray me."

Dad was pissed, but I'd had plenty of time to work up a pretty good head of steam on my own indignation. "Can you please explain how my dating Edward would be a betrayal?"

"Dating? Is that what you call what's been going on? Bella Marie, let me tell you something. Groping in a parking lot does not constitute a date! Where's your self-respect, young lady?"

He had me there. Self-respect had pretty much taken a back seat to this madness with Edward, and I couldn't claim otherwise. Time to try a new angle.

"Dad, I care about this boy."

"Pfft. I'm sorry, are you the same girl who was in love with another boy just a few short weeks ago? What is it about this magic mechanic?"

Gah! What, indeed? I had a feeling Dad would be less than receptive to hearing about Edward's sexy bedroom eyes or his perfect ass or the jaw that made me want to recite sonnets. In my wild attempt to pinpoint a trait I knew Dad would respect in him, I blurted what I'd meant to keep a secret. "Edward protects me. Bet he didn't tell you that!"

"Protects you from _what_?" Dad's arms folded over his chest and his eyes narrowed.

"The other guys in Service . . . sometimes, they like to try to embarrass me."

"What? Why didn't Rose tell me about this?"

"They don't do it while she's around. Sometimes they tell dirty jokes, and Edward kind of takes care of me."

Dad's hands balled into fists at his sides, making me feel even worse for telling him, but I was desperate to paint Edward in the best possible light. "I will kill those jackasses."

"Dad. I'm nineteen. I can handle a dirty joke or two."

"I should've trusted my instincts. I knew there was no good that could come out of you working in the garage."

"Pfft, no, I was much better off making change and totaling up columns for Mrs. Cope. How about the fact that I actually _learned_ from Rose? Did you know I calculated the mechanics' bonuses for Q2?"

Dad's frown twisted into a sneer. "I cannot wait to see what Edward Cullen is getting this quarter. Does he earn extra for teaching you how to smoke?"

"Dad. Seriously. You need to know, all he's done is try to get me not to smoke. I swear."

The flare of anger disappeared from his face, but what was left was far worse—disappointment. "It's not really about Edward, Bella. It's about who you've become since you met him. You know that cigarettes kill, and yet you choose to do it to impress this boy. And your clothes . . . What? You didn't think I'd noticed?"

_God_, here I'd imagined my father was oblivious, but I'd been the blind one all along. Of course, Charlie Swan, keen observer of humankind, would not miss the transformation occurring right under his nose. I chose to focus on the one positive thing he'd said. "If it's not about Edward, why does he have to be punished for my mistakes?"

Dad pulled in a long, deep breath and tipped his face toward the starry night when he finally answered. "Edward Cullen is not your concern, Bella, and I've let him know—in no uncertain terms—the same holds true for you. You won't be hearing from or seeing him again."

The steel door came crashing down, closing off all hope of another rendezvous with Edward. "Jesus, Dad! What'd you do, take out a hit on the guy?"

When Dad looked at me again, his face held more pain than I could bear. "You don't get it yet, do you, Bells? I love that boy like a son. Do you have any idea how much this hurts me?"

The tears broke free and streamed down my cheeks. "Then don't do it, Dad! Just leave us alone and let us be together!"

Dad stepped closer and reached for my arms, but I shrugged him off. I wasn't ready to be comforted by the very man who was keeping me from Edward. "Bella, I know you think you're living out some modern-day version of Romeo and Juliet here, but things don't work that way in the real world. Besides, look how it ended for those two."

I shed a few extra tears for Romeo and Juliet while Dad twisted the knife in my gut. "I'm afraid I'm going to have to cut your summer internship short."

"You're FIRING me now?"

"It's for your own good, Bella."

"That's B.S.! You're just worried about what people will think!"

"Yeah," he agreed softly, ignoring my inflammatory language though I knew it hurt him. "I am. I have too many people counting on me to risk turning the dealership into Peyton Place. I'd do the same if it were any of the other gals who work for me, Bella. Look, you only have two more weeks before school starts up again. You can find other distractions until then, maybe go into Akron U with Mom and help with the accompanying? You know she's always looking for pianists this time of year."

The longer he talked, the more I realized his mind was made up, and any convincing I might try to do would be wasted. He was right; there was no way I could've gone back to the dealership, even if Dad and I could've easy listened our way through the painful commute. Everyone at work would be talking about us—the slutty boss's daughter and the mechanic who took advantage of her.

How could I ever look at Mrs. Cope or Jasper again? They'd never understand.

That was laughable. They'd never understand _what_? Our deep talks over a shared cigarette? What exactly had Edward and I ever been about? Could we even qualify for "we" status?

The more I tried to capture this "relationship," the more elusive it all became until I had myself convinced that Edward and I were nothing more than two hot bodies crashing together by a force of nature too strong to ignore. He and I had ruined each other's lives for absolutely nothing.

"Don't worry, Dad. I'll pack up tonight and go stay with Angela 'til the dorm opens. You won't have me underfoot to remind you of your disappointment."

* * *

**A/N:** Just so you know, in case you weren't 19 and virginal and living in Ohio in 1982, saying "B.S." to your parents was a BIG, BAD thing to do! Okay . . . I know I've got a few girls in the shell with me- Joey and Mere- anyone else? I've got room but it's BYO Blankie. Hmm, come to think of it, maybe we should pull Charlie in here with us. Scootch over, Witchy, and share those chips!

**XXX ~BOH**


	18. Chapter 18

~ **18 ~**

"Come on, Bella. Everyone says this movie is a must-see. I don't want to miss it."

"Ange, really? A PG movie by a no-name producer about an extra-terrestrial befriending a little boy? I'm pretty sure we can skip that."

Angela tossed down her purse so she could double hands-on-hips me. "I need to get out of this house. All we've done since you got here last week is stay up too late and listen to depressing music. I swear, if I hear _Lost Without Your Love_ one more time, I'm gonna lose my ever-loving mind!"

"Hey! I broke it up this morning with some other stuff!"

"Seriously, Bella? Jim Croce hardly counts as a picker-upper."

"You should go out with your friends. Don't let me hold you back." It was much easier to sulk without Angela making me feel guilty about holding her back.

"I'm not gonna leave you here to sit by the phone."

"I'm not sitting by the phone!"

"Sure."

I was totally sitting by the phone, and we both knew it. "How would he even get this number?" I challenged her, hoping like hell she'd come up with the answer I couldn't.

"Hmm, let's see now. How does this fantasy go? Oh yes . . . In a weak moment, Edward breaks down, calls your house when your dad's at work, confesses his love for you, says he can't live without you for another moment, and demands to know where he can find you. Your mother realizes she can't possibly stand in the way of this epic love story, makes Edward swear not to tell your dad, and gives him the number."

"You know, you can be a real bitch sometimes," I informed her.

"And you can be a real—"

The telephone rang right on cue, startling both of us out of our argument. I stared at the thing like it was a live grenade, while Angela rolled her eyes and picked up the handset. "Hello?"

Her eyes widened and clicked over to me. "Yes, you have the right number."

My heart did a high jump and landed in my throat. _Is that for me_? I mouthed, placing my palm over my racing heart.

Angela nodded. "Sure, one sec, here she is." Cradling the mouthpiece against her stomach, Angela whispered, "It's a guy."

I'd played this out a thousand times, but every clever piece of dialogue I'd heard in my head flew right out of mind when she extended the phone to me. "I'll be downstairs," she mimed, then crossed her fingers for me before leaving.

I took three deep breaths before answering, and my voice still sounded like I'd been sucking down helium. "Hello?"

"Bella?"

My heart was pounding so hard in my ears, I couldn't be sure it was him. "Edward?"

A long sigh answered me. "No, Bella. It's Jake. Jacob Black, remember me?"

"Oh god." I held the phone away from my mouth while despair overtook me. My body fell onto the bed like a sack of potatoes. That twenty seconds of hope was going to cost me dearly.

"Bella? Can you hear me?"

I eyed the turquoise handset lying on the pillow next to me. Fucking Jake. I wanted to hang up, but I hadn't spoken to my parents at all since arriving at Angela's, and Jake was my only lifeline to home. I hooked my finger into the plastic coil and dragged the phone toward my head. "Yeah."

"Hey," he said, "are you okay?"

Everything I'd lost swam around behind my closed eyes, and I couldn't form an answer. For once, Jake had the insight to hold his tongue while I cried softly into the phone. After a few minutes, my sobs died down, and Jake's quiet voice came through.

"I'm still here."

"I know. Thanks." I pushed myself up so I was sitting against the headboard and grabbed a couple Kleenex from the nightstand.

"Do you want to talk?" he asked.

"Not really," I answered, dabbing my eyes, "but thanks for asking."

"Sure, no problem."

I pictured him on the other end of the phone line, maybe sitting on his bed, too. It had to be hard for him to pick up the phone and call me, knowing I'd rejected him yet again. Poor Jake.

"Bella?"

"Yeah."

"I just want you to know . . . I would never, ever hurt you."

"Ugh, Jake, I really don't want to talk about . . . him." _Not with you._

"Pfft, neither do I. This is about me, about you and me."

There was no Jake and me, never would be, but I didn't have the heart to come right out and say it. "Hey, Jake?"

"Yeah?"

"How's my dad?"

Jake sighed. I wasn't sure if he was expecting a different kind of question or if he was preparing himself to deliver a rough answer.

"He's pretty quiet. Seems sad."

"Did he . . . was it his idea for you to call me?"

"No, Bella. It was my idea." Good ol' Jake. That almost made me smile.

"How are the car sales going?"

"Not that great. I don't think I'm very good at it, to be honest. People seem like they're interested. We chat for a while. Everything seems like it's going good, and then . . ."

"They be-back you."

He chuffed. "Yep."

Why did he have to keep laying himself out at my feet like a perpetual doormat? And honestly, why couldn't I just go for Jake? Things would be so much easier.

"Well, hang in there, Jake. You'll find something you're really good at. I know it."

"Okay," he said, sensing his dismissal. "Just remember, Bella, I'm here if you need me."

"Thanks for your call, Jake. It was really nice talking to you."

"You too, Bella."

"So?" Angela slipped back into her room and jumped on the bed, her eyes wide and expectant.

"It wasn't him, Ange."

"Come on, Bella. You and I have a date with E.T."

* * *

**A/N:** I always really loved that line of Jake's, mostly because two people can never promise each other that.

Where were you when ET came out in theaters? I was about to say goodbye for the summer to my true love, and when ET flew off into the dark sky (*SPOILER ALERT*) I cried my everloving eyeballs out! Mister H held my hand and chuckled at me. He still does that when I cry at the movies, which is almost every time.

**XXX ~BOH**


	19. Chapter 19

**~ 19 ~**

Leaves turned; Angela and I moved back to school. The scenery changed, but everything inside me churned away as before.

I'd stretched my friendship with Angela to its breaking point, chewing off her ear with long, depressed ramblings and refusing her offers to go out and take my mind off things. She started making excuses to be somewhere else, and we both pretended to believe them.

In my rational moments, I knew Edward wouldn't try to find me. My entire world vacillated between guilt and loss, worrying over Edward and pitying myself. I wanted to apologize to him for costing him his job and ruining his relationship with my father, but I didn't even know how to find him without involving Rose again, and that was where my selfishness finally drew the line.

Reason often gave way to fantasy, especially alone at night, with Edward making a surprise trip to Philly. He'd be waiting for me inside my dorm wearing that damn wife-beater, a pair of tight jeans, and those sexy, no-nonsense work boots. He'd insist he wasn't leaving until we finished what we'd started. He'd undress me and make me confess how badly I wanted him, how much I'd missed him, how he'd ruined me for other men.

I took up the challenge to prove fantasy-Edward wrong. He may have turned me off to the flipped-up collars and perfectly-clipped fingernails—the cookie-cutter, Wall-Street Wannabes all around me—but he'd most definitely awakened in me a craving for the kind of boy Rose would've described as "rough around the edges," complete with rough whiskers and a full head of messy hair. What really got my motor going was a pair of super intense eyes. I wanted a guy who would be a challenge, maybe even someone who wouldn't go all sweet on me, especially not at first.

I was tired of being "Daddy's good girl," and I was chasing that high I'd had with Edward. I had no trouble attracting willing partners, especially since my wardrobe had taken a definite turn toward brevity. I went out on dates, never with the same boy twice, letting them inside my shirt with fingers and sometimes mouths. I'd even let a couple boys dry hump me, but there were no fingers worthy of venturing where Edward's had gone. It was only a matter of time before I found myself in a situation I couldn't handle.

The situation's name was Alec Voltaire.

Baroque Music was my one non-business elective, my only chance to meet kids outside the Pryor School of Finance and Economics. I'd dropped Anthropology in favor of this class when I learned it was a "gut"—an easy A. It also didn't hurt that there was a lanky, moody student with a you-can-fuck-right-off attitude and a head of shaggy, brown hair with just a touch of red—not that I could ever see his eyes because he always kept them pointed downward, but I was almost sure they were green. His lips were too delicate for the angry scowl he wore like a badge of honor.

The challenge was irresistible. I wanted this boy, but I was scared to death to approach him. I had no idea if the rebel had a cause or was just a sullen teenage boy, but he clearly wasn't looking to make friends, and for some reason, I wasn't sure I could handle this particular boy's rejection.

So I watched and I waited and I practiced on other boys, working my way up the food chain until the day came that I was ready to approach him. As he'd done each Tuesday and Thursday for twelve weeks now, Alec waited until the last possible minute before class started, slumped into the seat closest to the door, and extended his right leg away from his body. He was half-ready to bolt from class at any minute, and that's exactly what he did the moment Dr. Banner excused us.

I had to nearly skip to keep pace with Alec's long strides, but I wasn't worried he'd lose me—I knew exactly where he was going. Reaching the stone half-wall at the far end of the courtyard, Alec tossed his backpack onto the grass and pulled a box of Marlboros from his coat pocket. My heart skipped a happy beat as he trapped the cigarette between his sexy lips and cupped his hands around the end while he lit up. He closed his eyes and took a long drag before leveling his glare at me.

"Can I help you?" he asked, his tone indicating the only thing he wanted to help me do was leave him the hell alone.

I jumped and blushed, but I held my ground. "Got a light?" My voice sounded impressively smooth though my hands were shaking as I dug through my bag for my Camels.

He leaned back against the wall and pulled out his lighter. He was a porcupine with every quill standing straight up, but I walked over and waited for him to light me.

I wasn't expecting him to speak again, so I startled when he did. "You've been staring at me in class."

I shrugged like it was no biggie to look at someone. On the inside, my nerves were jangling together like a sack of coins.

"Hunh," he said, the slightest smirk curling up around the cigarette hanging from his lips. "How'd you like it if I stared at you like that?"

I was right—his eyes _were_ green! — glimmering jade beams that heated every cell in my body. It thrilled me he wanted to look at me the way I looked at him. "Free country," I answered.

He chuckled at my preposterous attempt at nonchalance. With a graceful hop, he hoisted his butt onto the ledge and leaned back onto his palms. "C'mere."

I stepped closer and stood stock still while his eyes ticked down my body like a pair of rough, greedy hands. My nipples hardened under his hot glare, and when his gaze reached my mini-skirt, I felt the heat of a freshly-struck match.

"What's your name?"

"Bella."

"Well, Bella, I'm Alec, and you have my attention."

I took a pull on my cigarette and tried not to smile too wide though his words sent a chill skittering down my spine. I very much wanted to keep his attention, and he looked like he was waiting for me to make the next move.

I took two steps forward, positioning myself between his spread knees and placing my palms on his thighs. He took one long draw on his cigarette and snuffed it into the rocks beside him, and I followed suit.

He reached out and cupped my chin in his hand. "You have a really sexy mouth," he said, just before leaning forward and closing his lips over mine. His kiss was aggressive, and before I could catch my breath, his tongue was pressing against mine, demanding and hot and primal. I opened for him, and he closed his knees around my waist and drew me against him. It felt good to be wanted, even better to be held and kissed. His taste and his smell were off, and I told myself it was just his brand of cigarettes.

His lips kissed a trail along my jaw, the gentle nip of his teeth a maddening chaser. When his lips reached my ear, he tightened his hand around the back of my head and whispered, "I want that mouth on me."

I knew what he meant, and he wasn't talking about kissing. He pulled back slowly, measuring my response with those piercing eyes. His look said it all—take it or leave it, Bella. I could either suck his dick or walk away. I ignored the still, small voice shouting into the abyss where my conscience used to live.

* * *

**A/N: **Uh oh. I think we've got about ten in the pumpkin shell at this point, but always room for more! (Charlie was officially kicked out!)

I guess I did time jump a bit, as some had predicted- 12 weeks into classes. *sheepish grin*

You guys are awesome. Have I told you that lately? If you've got any pictures of Alec to share with the group, come on over and post them in the patch. (partially clothed, please!)

**xxx ~BOH**


	20. Chapter 20

**WARNING: This chapter will be rough if you're squeamish about Bella with someone else. You can follow the flow of the story just fine if you want to just fade yourself to black and pick up with 21 . . . See you at the bottom if you're still here!**

* * *

**~ 20 ~**

His eyebrows rose for a second when I nodded yes, and he was off that wall and dragging me by the hand before I could catch my breath. I didn't really care where he took me as long as that big, sure hand was around mine. What had taken me weeks to achieve with Edward, I'd somehow managed in just a few minutes with Alec.

It took me two steps for each of his, and Alec was in a hurry. I skipped along behind him, breathless and excited and terrified. I was about to cross a boundary I could never uncross.

_What's the big deal?  
__It's not like you can get pregnant!  
__You'll still be a virgin.  
__Who's gonna know?__  
_

And the biggest lie I told myself: _He'll like me afterward. _

There wasn't one part of me that believed it, but I suspended all my doubts and let him drag me behind the library. I'd never been back here before though I'd spent hours and hours inside the library—last year. Clearly, Alec knew his way around the dark corners, and soon we were hidden in a semi-sheltered alcove. Alec's backpack slid to the ground as his arms fell to his sides.

"You can kneel on your backpack," he offered. It made sense, but I'd not exactly considered I'd be on my knees.

I nodded, my heart pounding in my ears. A new fear gripped me—what if I did a terrible job? It's not like I knew what I was doing. Alec seemed to have a lot of experience with this, so maybe he'd just take charge and I could bluff my way through. How hard could it be?

Speaking of hard things . . . My eyes dropped to his zipper, and I saw the hungry bulge. _That's for me._ Eager and curious, I slipped to my knees in front of him and set my shaky hands to work on his belt buckle. I guess I wasn't quite efficient enough, and he reached in impatiently and opened up his belt for me. My knuckles knocked against the lump as I tugged the zipper down, and he hissed when I pulled his jeans down over his hips and thighs. I'd never seen a boy in his underwear before, and the outline of his thing pointed straight out at me from behind the grey boxers. Alec laughed and reached for his waistband. "Better hurry," he said, "it's chilly out here."

I held my breath as he yanked his boxers down and the huge fleshy missile flipped up and slapped against his belly. I was trying to play it cool, but I was totally intimidated by the size of him, not to mention the veiny texture, the patch of dark, wiry hair, and the puckered sac dangling below.

_Do it, Bella. Quick! Before you lose your nerve._

I knee-walked closer, took a deep breath, and took an experimental lick. Alec groaned when my tongue hit the tip of him, and I jerked back at the surprising taste of salty tang. His hands clasped the back of my head and coaxed me against his body. "Don't worry, baby. His bark is worse than his bite."

_How do other girls do this_? I wondered. I gripped his thighs for balance and opened my mouth again. He flexed his hips forward and pushed his thing between my lips until it hit the roof of my mouth. My throat closed up around the thick invasion, and he loosened his grip while I got the gagging under control. Alec ran his fingers soothingly through my hair while I sputtered and coughed.

_Just like my first time smoking. _I felt equally inept at this, but damn, the boy was encouraging. He was holding it out for me, serving it up like an ice cream cone on a hot summer day and using a low, seductive voice. "Try again, sweetheart, slower this time."

With all my hair gathered into his fist, he guided me back to the broad tip. As I swallowed him down inch by inch, he hissed and moaned and let me know exactly how much I was pleasing him. That's when I got it, why girls do this. It surely wasn't for the sour taste, or the choking feeling, or the cold lack of connection—it was the power! I was the one bringing him all the pleasure—_my_ mouth, _my_ face, _my_ body kneeling at his feet. A giddy rush rippled through me, and I set to work on my first blowjob like it was a new piano piece to master.

Alec grunted as I took over and lavished him with a new enthusiasm neither of us had expected. I pulled him in and he pushed back, creating an unbreakable rhythm between us. His hold on my head tightened as I moved over him with a building intensity, and I liked that he tugged at my roots as he lost control.

"_Nngh_, yeah, take it . . . just like that. Oh GOD YESSS, use your hand, aw fuck yeah . . ."

I wrapped my palm around the part that didn't fit in my mouth, and he went ballistic. The wet squish of my saliva created a sloppy backdrop for my eager moans and Alec's low grunts.

"Faster!" he begged breathlessly.

Drunk on my newfound power, I eased my grip and slowed my tempo from allegro to a deliberate largo, delighting at his frustrated growl.

"Ach, tease!" he complained.

_I'm not a tease. Not anymore._ Relaxing my throat, I pulled him all the way in, my nose and lips meeting the tuft of hair at his base.

"Mmm, now we're talking, baby, mmmm." Alec's hips snapped and rolled while he tugged my head in tighter. "Fuck, fuck, fuuuuuck!"

Everything froze for an instant while he drew in a sharp breath, then a hot, thick stream released into the back of my throat. Tears flowed down my cheeks as the last spurts of his bitter discharge emptied into my mouth. I pulled my head off him and dropped to all fours in the dirt just in time to puke it all back up.

"You okay?"

I tipped my head toward his voice. Wiping my mouth with the back of my hand, I stared at him incredulously while he pulled up his pants and slung his backpack over his shoulder.

"I knew you'd be fucking amazing with those lips. We should do that again real soon. See you Tuesday after class?"

* * *

**A/N:** Your responses are blowing me away. They're all over the place- It's all Charlie's fault, Bella's a hateful selfish brat, where the heck is Edward?- but oh, the PASSION! Guest reviewers, since I can't respond individually, I'll just say here that I accept all responses toward the story as perfectly valid, which is why I've posted them all. If you were looking for something light and airy, this story will continue to frustrate you, so you might want to find a different place to rest your eyeballs. I'm always available to engage personally, if you'd like to chat about the story either here or on FB.

I envisioned this scene as entirely consensual, and I hope you all read it that way. I really love that some of you were shipping B and Alec (though I'm not sure if you still feel that way now!) Okay...I think I'm ready for your reviews. *deep breath*

Also, I'd like to welcome Amber's Pen to the pre-read team!

**XXX ~BOH**


	21. Chapter 21

**~ 21 ~**

"Jesus! What happened?" Angela tugged me inside her room and plopped us both onto her bed. "Who did this to you? Are you hurt? Oh my god, Bella, did you get . . .?"

"No! God no, Ange. I'm okay. I just couldn't be alone right now."

She reached over and took my hand. "I'm glad you came, Bella."

The waterworks started up again, and Angela patiently pressed tissues into my hand while I got myself under control. "You sure you're not hurt?" she asked once more.

"Yeah. I could really use something to drink though." My throat was raw and tasted like . . . well, exactly what I'd swallowed.

"Here," she said, handing me a can of Tab. "Now who do I have to make Ben beat up?"

I had my first laugh in weeks. Sweet, shy Ben was more the type to get lost in a comic book than break someone's legs. "It's fine, Ange. I promise."

"You and I haven't spoken in over a month. You show up at my door looking like . . . frankly, looking like I should call campus security. I have no idea who you've been with, what you've been up to. You better start talking, Swan."

"I . . . met a boy."

Angela rolled her eyes. "Another boy? Lemme guess. He had Edward's eyes?" Her tone was scathing and her words cut but only because they were true.

"So anyway, I followed him after class. He's really cute. We shared a smoke . . ."

"Wonderful."

"Yeah. So he kissed me, and it was a really nice kiss, and then he kind of wanted more."

Her eyes narrowed. "What kind of more?"

My cheeks heated. "Not sex," I answered right away.

"So he wanted to play Tiddly Winks?"

"Yes, that's it, Angela. We played Tiddly Winks, and his dick accidentally ended up in my mouth!"

Her jaw dropped at my outburst. "Jesus Christ, Bella. You sucked his dick? A total stranger?"

"Screw you. I know him. He's in my Baroque Music class."

"Oh, pardonez-moi. So this guy who's in your music class, you kissed him and what? You said, 'Excuse me. Isn't Bach great? May I please suck your dick?'"

"He said he wanted my mouth on him, and I . . ." The heaving sobs started up again.

"Okay, okay. So . . . how was it?" she prodded cautiously, a lion tamer with a whip in one hand and a raw steak in the other. "This was your first time, right? Or have you been . . .?"

"No, geez! I haven't. Yes, it was my first time even seeing one of those things."

"One of those—?" Angela burst out laughing. "You're a real trip, Bella. You know that?"

"Is this funny to you?" I looked her right in the eye and pushed my sorry ass off her bed. "Coming here was a huge mistake."

"Whoa, calm down. I'm sorry. It's just . . . you can't even say the word and you just . . . ya know."

"Whatever. It's not like I planned it or anything. Everything just happened so fast."

"Did he force you?"

"No. Not really. I . . ."

"You wanted it."

"Do you think you could dial back the judgment—or is that not even possible?"

Angela heaved out a long, weary sigh. "I'm trying here. You just seem to be spiraling deeper and deeper down the rabbit hole. I'm afraid for you, Bella, but you're not going to listen to me, so what's the point?"

The stupid tears started again, and I needed to get out of there. "I don't know, Angela. For some idiotic reason, I thought you might just act like a friend for a change." I was too humiliated to ask for the hug I needed, so I turned toward the door.

"A _friend_? You don't want a friend, Bella. You want someone to listen to all your delusional bullcrap and not tell you you're pissing away your life. You're a mess. You're a danger to yourself and everyone around you. This is your friend telling you to pull your shit together before you end up in the gutter."

Without turning to face her, I responded, "Thanks for nothing, Angela." I'd never go back there again. Being alone was not the worst thing.

Before I even got back to my room, I knew I'd never be able to show my face in music class again. I could listen to the tapes in the library and get help from Mom if I needed some interpretation—not that things were going so swimmingly with my mother.

She'd call each Sunday afternoon and try not to ask me anything too invasive. In return, I didn't give her any truths she couldn't handle. The small talk worked pretty well for both of us until the inevitable, "Would you like to speak with your father?"

"Has he hired Edward back yet?"

"Bella, you don't understand—"

"Right, Mom, _I'm_ the one who doesn't understand."

And the conversation would come to a screeching halt.

My first skipped music class was a snowball that picked up momentum as it rolled downhill. Organizational Behavior was a joke, and why should I bother going to Risk Management when the TA just lectured from the book? Finance was all number-crunching, and I had my faithful HP12-C calculator to get me through. Schoolwork had never been that much of a challenge, and I was sure I could go it on my own. So that was settled; no more classes.

I pretty much swore off the male gender as well—not because I didn't crave the comfort of their company, but because I didn't trust myself, and I sure as shit didn't trust the bad boys I thought I craved. If I'd previously been searching—consciously or otherwise—for a boy like my "perfect" father, that strategy was smashed to bits.

Since I no longer had a schedule, there was no compelling reason to go for meals in the dining hall. I set up base camp with my electric kettle and mini-fridge and hit the 7-11 when I needed to restock on ramen and Cheerios. It was so easy to slink away and become invisible. With the exception of my concerned resident advisor occasionally stopping by to check on me, nobody missed me and there was certainly nobody I wanted to see. I was more grateful than ever not to have a roommate.

And so it went. Days went by where I barely moved beyond my bed and desk. I'd wake up whenever, grab a bowl of cereal, put on some twisty music that validated my mood, and find a reason not to do anything productive. I'd heard the stories of students who'd fallen into similar traps, stories that all ended the same way—with a ticket home. Home was not an option for me—not for Thanksgiving and certainly not as a dropout. No, I could figure this out on my own, somehow. I just needed a solid plan.

Lying was so much easier now. Maybe I'd built up enough good will over the last nineteen years that I was still credible, or maybe Mom just heard what she wanted to hear; either way, I marveled at how readily she believed I was going home with Angela for Thanksgiving. I had every intention of using the long weekend at school to catch up on my reading and finish a couple of late papers. Problem was, my body rhythms were so messed up, I could no longer fall asleep without sleeping pills. The only way to counteract the drowsy hangover was with cigarettes and caffeine. It was a vicious cycle that had me too strung out to study. All I knew was I was heading for a major crash and burn, and I had no idea how to slow the roll.

* * *

**A/N:** I think it's fair to say Angela spoke for many of us. Are you the friend who tells it like it is? Are you the one who runs away? Was the "friend" Bella wanted the one she needed? Do you remember Tab? Who besides my darling husband still owns an HP 12-C?

I think we'd all like to believe that kids wouldn't slip through the cracks like this anymore, with all the so-called advances in mental health awareness. Sadly, we know otherwise AND it's 1982 here.

Glad you guys are still here...

**xxx ~BOH**


	22. Chapter 22

**~ 22 ~**

_All my dreams pass before my eyes in curiosity  
__Dust in the wind . . . all they are is dust in the wind.__  
_

_Yes, Kansas, I know how you feel_.

I was one giant ball of holiday sneer assembling my solo Thanksgiving dinner: sliced turkey breast on Wonder bread with a generous slathering of mayo. It might have felt more festive if I hadn't eaten the same exact thing for two days now. Afraid to risk being seen returning to the dorm yesterday while everyone would be leaving, I'd gathered up all my supplies on Tuesday, pulled down the shade in my room, and hunkered down for the long weekend.

Aside from the fact that they'd lowered the heat about five degrees for the weekend, it wasn't too bad. A constant dosage of hot coffee warmed me during the day, and I wore a sweater to bed—not as if there was anyone there to see me. I'd have short, brilliant bursts of energy where I'd rip through a chapter and take mad notes, followed by a sudden crash where I couldn't keep my eyes open. My days and nights blurred together, but how could it matter? I wasn't on anyone's schedule but my own. Home-schooling at its best.

_"_All we do crumbles to the ground though we refuse to see. Dust in the wind, all we are is dust in the wind. Oh . . ."

My singing voice wasn't stellar, but Kansas knew what I meant. Speaking of dust, my room was in dire need of a vacuum. _I'll rent one on Monday_, I promised myself, knowing even before the thought had evaporated that I'd never do it.

I threw myself onto my bed and closed my eyes. _Why didn't I ask Mom to record my Baroque pieces for me? I could be studying right now . . ._

When I woke up, I realized I'd slept all the way to Friday, which came and went, along with the last slices of turkey. Feeling pretty damn impressed with my survival skills, I switched to my stored-up canned goods on Saturday. Chunky Soup beef stew wasn't half bad. Determined to make some progress with my insurance book after wasting the day yesterday, I cleared off my desk and put on a fresh pot of coffee. With a blanket around my shoulders and my feet stuffed deep inside furry slippers, I forced my way through twenty pages before I absolutely could not sit there one moment longer.

_I've earned a break._

I wandered down the hall to the "lounge"—basically a couple of ratty old couches and somebody's used television, flipped on the set, and clicked through the channels.

_Love Boat?_ No thanks. _Three's Company_? Really, no thanks. _MASH_? Hmm, war, destruction, sarcasm, anguish . . . _perfect_.

I woke up hours later, cold and stiff from the rigid couch. Slipping into the bathroom for a pit stop, I was assaulted by my reflection. There was no escaping it: I looked like a _Dawn of the Dead_ extra, pale white face and all.

"Congratulations, Bella. You're a zombie."

I shuffled to my room, retrieved my shower caddy and towel, and treated myself to a long, hot shower. Nobody waiting in line, nobody clamoring to conserve the hot water. With nothing more pressing to do, I shaved my legs and underarms and even dried my hair afterward. It occurred to me that I was procrastinating at this point, but I rationalized that if I felt a little better, I would be more productive.

Celebrating my huge accomplishment of showering, I boiled up a box of Kraft macaroni and cheese and ignored the slightly sour aroma coming from the milk container as I mixed up the artificial cheese sauce. I choked down another half chapter of insurance before deciding _Saturday Night Live_ would be far more entertaining.

Burning through another pack of cigarettes, I savored every outrageous skit—Joe Piscopo and Eddie Murphy doing a Frank Sinatra-Stevie Wonder _Ebony and Ivory_ routine, the "Interesting Four," Brad Hall's weekend update, all of it—with the full knowledge that if my father were here, he would be shaking his head and muttering, "I can't understand how anyone thinks this stuff is funny." Freedom had its advantages, and I was determined to enjoy my last night before the hordes returned.

The late, late shows bled into the early, early shows. My eyelids became heavy around three, but there wasn't anyone to rouse me and send me to my relatively softer bed. Slamming doors and blaring music woke me just after noon. I stretched out my stiff joints and snuck away to my hovel down the hall before anyone could ask me how my Thanksgiving break was.

Late in the afternoon, my R.A. knocked on the door. "Hey, Bella, it's Dan."

I knew he wouldn't go away until I let him in. "Hey."

He gave me a critical once-over, not the way guys looked at me at parties, but the way a parent or a friend might. "How was your weekend?"

"It was great, thanks. Turkey, stuffing, football, food coma . . . the usual. How about you?"

His eyes revealed suspicion, but he played it cool. "Same. So, how are classes going?"

"Good." I figured the less said, the better.

"Cool. So, you know you can talk to me if you need anything, right?"

_Do not roll your eyes_.

"Yep. Thanks."

"Sure. Okay, I'm just right down the hall."

"Yup." _Getting awkward, Dan._

"Okay. See you, Bella."

I worried that Dan was going to be all over me after that, but he backed off. He must've seen that I had the situation under control. Sure, I watched _All My Children _and_ General Hospital_ when I should've been in classes and lived on ramen and granola bars, but what's the big deal? I'd mastered the fine art of self-medication; I knew just when to shut off the coffee and cigarettes and switch to Sominex.

The phone would ring, but guess what? If I ignored it, it would eventually stop. Unlike my parents, I didn't allow an answering machine to enslave me. I walked over to Pryor when the exam schedule came out and jotted down the details. I still had a week and a half before finals started. Cramming and all-nighters went hand-in-hand with college. So what if I'd skipped classes for three weeks? I'd pull out the "A," just as I always had.

_You got this, Bella_.

There was only one more week of classes anyway; then all my guilt would melt away. I couldn't feel bad for skipping classes that weren't being held.

Somehow, even though I wasn't particularly taxing myself during the week, TGIF seemed to maintain its festive vibe. My plan was to study for a couple of hours and go out for something a little more exciting than what I could boil in my hot pot. I curled up on my bed with _Principles of Risk Management_ and started reading.

My head was pounding, but it was an odd pattern: four bangs, pause, four more bangs, another pause.

"Bella! Bella, are you in there?"

I shook my cobwebs free and sat up in my bed. It was dark already. Shoot! I must've nodded off again. If only risk assessment were more exciting.

_Bang, bang, bang, bang._

Those were real knocks on the real door.

"Okay! One sec!"

_Must be my pesky R.A. again_. _Damn busybody, _I was thinking as I yanked open the door,_ can't even let a girl have her priv—_

"Bella?"

_No, no, no. Stop it with the hallucinations already. That is not . . . he's not . . ._

"Bella? Jesus, you look like hell!"

It sure looked like Edward though this guy was wearing jeans and a black T-shirt under a thick, black leather jacket, and I busted out laughing because didn't that sound just like something he'd say?

He moved toward me cautiously, like I might bite him or something.

"Why are you here?"

"Your father sent me."

* * *

**A/N:** NOW we're talking! :) The knight NOT in greasy coveralls has arriven! I hope you all enjoy picturing him in that yummy attire. A-TIRE. Get it?

I have a confession. The first nine-tenths of this chapter were added (written) yesterday (though the bulk of the story is finished) because I felt like so many of you were curious how she handled Thanksgiving. Even though I'm at my personal rock bottom with the angst, based on your reviews and some good advice from my pre-reading team, it seemed reasonable to write it out rather than leave a space for you to fill in. While both Shell and Amber took a kamikaze run through this one just before I posted, Chaya hasn't seen it and may be wondering what in the Sam Hill (M*A*S*H reference) I've just done! So please don't blame her THIS TIME if you find any mistakes! ;)

One more disclaimer: I have a busy weekend filled with all kinds of wonderful out of town company and loads of activity. I know I won't be able to spend any time responding to reviews, but I will MOST DEFINITELY be sneaking many a peek between now and tomorrow a.m. So please know that I read and appreciate each one even if I can't answer you this time. I'd like to think I'll post the next chapter on Thursday or Friday, but as you can see, we are at a CLIMAX (angels singing) and I'd like to savor it along with you.

Also, a hearty thank you for all the nominations on the Twific Awards. I really love you guys. Okay...let 'er rip! :D

**XXX ~BOH**


	23. Chapter 23

**~ 23 ~**

My _father_? After all this time apart, all the days and nights I'd spent pining for him, missing something I wasn't even sure we had, all that angst over this boy, and that's what he offers me?

And what the hell was Dad trying to prove with this move? Was this his way of apologizing for tearing us apart? Edward was what . . . a pawn to be moved in my father-daughter chess game?

"So that's it? You're here for _him_?"

He took a cautious step closer. "No, Bella. I'm here for you. It's been torture for me to stay away. And then when I heard you were . . ." His voice trailed off and he did that jaw clench thing I remembered hating.

"I was what?"

"Kind of a train wreck."

"Fuck you."

"Okay," he said, looking defeated already. I followed his eyes around my room. Dirty clothes in a heap in the corner, coffee mugs with crusty bottoms, ashtrays filled with butts. "How many packs a day are you up to?"

"_You're_ judging me now? Who do you think taught me to smoke in the first place?"

"I did not teach you how to smoke. I tried to make you quit!"

"I only did it to impress you!"

"How do you think that's going so far?"

I had the strongest urge to slap him. "Did you come here to make me feel worse about myself? Because honestly, Edward, I'm pretty sure I cannot handle that right now. Especially from you!"

"No, Bella, shit . . . no. I want to help."

My eyes clouded with tears, and my voice was no more than a pathetic whimper. "How?"

He closed the distance between us so fast, I barely saw him move. Strong arms wrapped around me and held me, swaying us gently side-to-side. I breathed him in as my tears spilled down his shirt.

"I'm sorry I stayed away, Bella. I guess your dad had me believing that I really wasn't good enough for you. I'm here now."

My sobbing turned into ugly hiccups. I tipped my face up, and his warm eyes beamed down on me. "I'm so lost, Edward."

He lifted one of his hands to my face, affectionately tucking my stray hairs behind my ear and gliding his coarse fingertips down my neck. I held perfectly still, afraid to burst our perfect reunion bubble.

"Why don't you let me help you find yourself?"

I nodded, grateful beyond measure. "Don't you have to get back?"

"I'm fine. I have a few weeks off."

"You have a job?"

He cocked his head. "I fix cars? Remember?"

Edward had a job? His life wasn't ruined after all? Still, things didn't add up. Mechanics didn't get three weeks of vacation time.

"I don't understand."

Concern crinkled his forehead. "Bella, are you high?"

"What? No. I don't do that stuff."

"Sorry, you're acting kind of crazy."

"_I'm crazy_? You come here, telling me my father sent you, and your new boss gave you some huge vacation, and—"

_Holy shit!_ My knees buckled, and Edward caught me just before I lost my balance. "You work for my dad?"

He squeezed me a little tighter against his chest. "Yes, Bella, for the last three years. Are you sure you're okay?"

"No, I'm sure I'm _not_ okay. My dad didn't fire you?"

"What?" He steadied me on my feet and held me by the shoulders, tipping his head forward so his eyes were even with mine. "Charlie told you he fired me?"

"Yes!" I insisted, but as soon as the word was out of my mouth, remembered conversation chunks began flinging themselves at me like meteorites hurtling through time and space.

_-Did you fire him?  
__-What choice did I have?__  
_

"Wait, not exactly. Oh my god, I can't believe all this time . . ."

_-Has he hired Edward back yet?  
__-Bella, you don't understand . . .__  
_

"God, Bella, I'm sorry. I had no idea."

"So what _did_ he say to you that night?"

Edward took a deep breath and clicked back to the August night that changed everything.

"He reminded me of my promise to keep my bloody paws off his daughter, and he said he didn't want to have to fire me, so if I left you alone, we could all just go on about our business. Honestly, I believed it was for the best. Look what we did to each other."

Sadness crashed into me like a Mack truck. "You really believe we're bad for each other?"

"I think we were—the first time around."

I hadn't realized I could hurt more than I already did, but his confession gutted me. "So you're only here because my father is paying you to come fix me like some damn broken engine?"

Edward refused to be offended by my harsh accusation. His voice remained soft and kind. "No, Bella. I'm here because I need you, and I believe we can heal each other."

"You need me?"

His thumbs brushed tiny arcs along my shoulders. "What do you think?"

_I think I really needed to believe him._

"What about your family? Don't they need you, too?"

"They're fine, Bella. My little brother Masen got his driver's license three weeks ago. He can drive Bree to ballet, and I've arranged carpools for the other stuff. Mom can pick up the groceries after work for a few weeks. Everyone will survive."

"Three weeks, huh?" My mind was already ticking off the advent calendar of Edward. There were two weeks until Christmas, and the third would take us into the New Year. Still, it wasn't exactly a vacation for me. I had finals starting next week and half a semester's work to make up. I needed to clean up my act and get a grip on my life.

"Yeah," Edward answered, his voice cautiously optimistic. "What do you say?"

Disappointing him was not an option. Hell, disappointing _myself_ was no longer an option.

"I'm terrified."

Edward stepped forward until his toes nearly touched mine. Without saying a word, he reached his hands into the crease between my breasts. I was frozen in place, remembering that first awkward grope behind the dealership. Without breaking eye contact, he worked the buttons back through the holes, covering my skin until only two buttons were open at my neck. The tenderness of his gesture moved me beyond words.

His hands slid down my arms and grasped my hands between us. "We're going to start over, and I'm going to do right by you this time."

* * *

**A/N:** SO! Some secrets have been revealed! I was DYING to share this one with you. Hope you enjoyed seeing how they reconnected.

I so love your questions. You're asking all the right ones and keeping me on my toes. I hope I got to everyone with my review replies. Sometimes, reviews fall through the cracks because of a strange glitch. Hit me with a PM if I've missed you! I really love hearing your thoughts!

There's loads more to tell...stay tuned?

**XXX ~BOH**


	24. Chapter 24

**~ 24 ~**

"When's the last time you ate something nutritious?"

"I think I had some salad a few days ago."

Edward chuffed. "Wonderful."

"I really haven't had much of an appetite." Now that he brought it up, my tight jeans were a bit baggy on me. I'd never been weight-conscious before—just always ate when I was hungry and indulged when I felt the urge.

"Come on. I'm taking you out to dinner."

He stood across from me, hands at his sides, looking like he might've been steeling himself for a fight, so naturally, I teased him. "Are you asking me out on a date, Edward Cullen?"

His jaw dropped down just enough that I could see a little tongue peeking through until he recovered. "Sure. Why not?"

"Hmmph! What if I have plans?" We both knew he'd woken me from a sound sleep, and the only date I was planning was with my next cigarette and a tankard of coffee.

"Break 'em," he answered without a second's hesitation.

"Well, aren't you the bossy one?" My hands slid to my hips and a smile tugged at the corners of my lips. I was already feeling lighter, like maybe one of the dozen elephants sitting on my chest decided to get up and go home.

"You have no idea the shit storm I'm about to rain down on your ass, Bella Swan."

"In that case," I said, "you better take me to Burger Haven."

"Sounds nutritious." Edward chuckled, turning toward the door.

"Wait! I should change."

"Why?"

"Oh, let's see. Someone just stormed in here and told me I looked like hell. What were the exact words you used? Oh yes, 'a train wreck.'"

Edward reached out and clasped my hand, his touch setting me deliciously on edge. "That was before you agreed to my terms. You're perfect now."

"Terms? What terms?"

He gave my hand a tug. "We'll discuss it over a couple of big, fat cheeseburgers and a mound of greasy fries."

I'd aced my Legal Studies final last semester; I could've poked a million holes in his flimsy contract, but the truth is I would've agreed to anything for Edward—and I was pretty sure he knew it. So, I acquiesced –a.k.a. caved—in the most gracious way.

"Throw in a chocolate Oreo shake and you have a deal."

"Done. Grab your coat and lead the way."

His fingers wove around and between mine, sealing us together more intimately than anything I could remember from that first, frantic encounter in the dirt.

I decided on the way to dinner that holding hands is the most underrated romantic experience going. Edward's big, warm hand around mine was an unspoken commitment to stick with me, to not let anyone or anything break us apart. I loved the way his thumb rubbed tiny circles around my knuckles, and I especially loved that his hands were rough from an honest day's labor. He knew how it felt to work hard for something, how to not shy away from a challenge. This was the confident grasp of a man, not the boys I'd been mistakenly using to try to fill the void in my heart.

Edward was right—we needed this new beginning because the way we'd come at each other the first time was fucked up with a capital F.U.

"Okay, Bella. What's your pleasure?" he asked as the restaurant came into view.

I ordered everything as threatened, and Edward added a "Haven Heaven" burger and black-and-white shake. A little shiver crept down my back when he pulled his wallet from his back pocket and thumbed through his bills. _The money my father gave him so he could fix me._

"What?"

_Damn, could this guy read my moods or what?_ I shook my head.

Placing his hand on the small of my back, he led me over to a small table for two. "Want to tell me what's wrong?"

My head snapped up. Things were going so well. Edward was here. We held hands. Did I really want to poison this moment?

"Okay," he said softly, turning his head away from me.

"Sorry," I whispered. Now it was Edward's turn for surprise. When our eyes met again, his eyebrows were cocked and ready to hear what I didn't want to say. "I got a little freaked out when you paid. It's just . . . I feel like my dad just . . ."

"Ahh, looks like we've reached condition number one: you need to patch things up with your father."

"Edward—"

"The terms are non-negotiable."

"Bella! Order for Bella!"

Edward rose from the table, leaned down, and gave me a peck on the forehead. "Saved by the bell-a."

* * *

**A/N:** If it helps, I groaned there at the end, too. You know by now I'm gonna hit you with a few puns. Just smile and go with the flow.

So...conditions, huh? Edward's making her patch things up with Charlie? What else could Edward have up his leather sleeves? Can she accept his terms?

_Sigh._ Who loves to hold hands? Better than dry humping in the dirt?

SUCH IMPORTANT QUESTIONS! Is everyone still happy dancing, or are we getting nervous? I really love your greed and curiosity.

**XXX ~BOH**


	25. Chapter 25

**~ 25 ~**

My eyes were riveted to Edward's broad shoulders as he balanced the tray of cholesterol he was carrying back to the table. I thought about those shoulders, how they had so much responsibility riding on them with his family and now me.

A fresh batch of shame found a home in my gut. I'd underestimated this man. Worse, I'd jeopardized his livelihood and the well-being of everyone who depended on him. More than ever, I was determined to be worthy of his sacrifices.

"This might be a bit of a shock to your system," he said, sliding the plastic tray into the center of our table.

I studied the pile of greasy food, and my stomach shuddered. "How could this not be a shock to _your_ system?"

Edward chuckled as he rearranged his long legs under the table. "I'm a guy. I can eat anything."

"Ketchup on top or on the side?" I asked, the little half-pint bottle of Heinz hovering over the fries.

"I like it on top." Yep, there was a definite twinkle in his eye.

"Me too." I grinned back at him, and without even thinking, I squeezed out a little happy face of ketchup.

"Hmm, that could be a problem." He pulled a fry from the side of the stack and dragged it through the ketchup. "Both of us liking it on top."

Our eyes met, and I answered his innuendo by taking a huge, unladylike bite out of my burger. "Mmm, good . . . mmm."

As I mawed on the massive mound of meat in my mouth, I decided not to stall any longer. "I'm ready for the rest of the conditions now, please."

Thankfully, he wasn't the type to gloat but simply set down his shake and said, "Number two: you get back on the wagon with your classes and study that cute little ass off before finals." My jaw dropped open, and I'm sure my eyes were shooting daggers sharper than the little plastic swords in our pickles. "Before you say anything, you should know that the dean has had a long talk with Charlie."

My burger slipped through my fingers and tumbled into the plastic basket. I hadn't fully appreciated just how much more humiliation was waiting for me. "Jeez, so the whole world knows now?"

Edward reached over and covered my trembling hand. "Your parents and me. That's not the world, Bella; it's just the people who care most about you."

If I'd harbored a doubt about the integrity of his intentions, Edward had just swept it away.

I dropped my eyes to the worn hardwood floor, pulled in a shaky breath, and reminded myself that these people were not out to get me—exactly the opposite. I was the one on a crash-course with rock bottom, and they were trying to throw themselves in my way.

"Hey." Edward jiggled our hands so I'd look up. "You're looking at a guy who never finished high school."

"Is this the 'Do as I say, not as I do' speech?"

"No, Bella, not at all. I, uh . . ." His upper lip disappeared between his teeth, and for the first time since his appearance in my life, he looked shy. "I'm studying for my GED."

"You are? That's great! Good for you."

"Yeah, I guess." The hand that wasn't holding mine flew to the back of his head and gave a reassuring little rub. "Your dad always encouraged me to take care of this. I guess I always found excuses to put it off."

"He did?"

"Mmhmm." Edward smiled, and I had to marvel at how little I knew about their whole arrangement. "He threatened to fire me at one point if I didn't get on the stick, but when push came to shove, he couldn't do it. Charlie's a big softie. You know that, right?"

I chuffed. "Don't tell him that. He thinks Mom's the softie."

Edward nodded, and we sat with that between us for a few minutes. It was Edward who finally broke the moment.

"So, I thought maybe we could study together. I mean, I know my stuff's not nearly as hard as your college classes, but . . . at least we'd be suffering together?"

His forehead scrunched up while he sat there waiting for my response. I tried to honor his incredible generosity without embarrassing him further. "Thank you. That would really help."

Relief broke across his face. "Good. I kind of hate studying alone."

He tried to pick up his burger, but clearly it was a two-handed job.

"You can have your hand back," I informed him. As he brought the burger to his mouth, I asked him for the rest of the conditions.

"Okay," he answered.

"Sooooo?"

His eyes flicked back and forth between me and the fries. He sucked up a long drink of his shake and took yet another bite of his burger.

"You're stalling, Edward Cullen. Number three must be a doozy."

He took a couple more fries into his mouth, grabbed his napkin, methodically wiped off each finger, and dabbed at his mouth several more times, all the while studiously avoiding my eyes. I was getting nervous.

"Edward! I'm about to have a stroke over here."

"Okay. Here it is. You and I are going to quit smoking."

* * *

**A/N:** Many of you figured these conditions were coming, but did you know Edward would be studying and quitting too? This guy puts himself where his mouth is. ACTIONS speak louder than words! And did you catch that little tidbit of Edward and Charlie? Awww.

I've been trying to post teasers on the off-posting-days in my FB group. Join us if you'd like the inside scoop! ;)

**XXX ~BOH**


	26. Chapter 26

**~ 26 ~**

"We're gonna _what_? _Now_? How'm I s'posed to . . . Can't it wait 'til . . . I don't know if I can," I decided in the end.

"Hunh," Edward scoffed. "You don't know if _you_ can? Do you have any idea how long I've been smoking, Bella?"

"No, but I always thought you were really good at it."

His eyes popped for a second in surprise. "Good at it?"

"You're sexy when you smoke. Don't tell me you don't know that."

"Thanks, I guess."

He eyed me carefully while I scooped up a fry and pulled it toward my mouth. I left it between my lips for a second before gobbling it in. Would I miss the cigarettes? Absolutely. Would I rather have Edward quit, kick the filthy habit myself, and earn back both his respect and mine? Hell, yes!

"So, what's the plan? Tapering off? Illegal substances?"

"Cold turkey."

_That was a chilling concept_. "Damn."

"Yeah."

I snagged another fry. "When are we doing this?"

He sat back, folding his arms across his chest. "I was thinking we'd each have one last smoke after your classes tomorrow, and then take a little shopping excursion to load up on candy, gum, and toothpicks."

"Wow."

"Yeah."

"Are you scared?" I asked.

"Yes, but not for the reasons you think."

"How do you know?" My own reasons seemed good enough for him to be afraid, too: withdrawal, weight gain, failure.

"Because I still don't think you trust my feelings for you." I swayed into the back of the metal chair, and I couldn't think of a single intelligent thing to say. With his lips curling into a bit of a smug smile, he continued. "Right. I hope you can handle this, Bella. What scares me most is not being strong enough to get you through."

_Gobsmacked_. That was the word for it. "I honestly don't deserve you, Edward."

Edward smiled as if he knew I'd react that way. "Of course you do, Bella. You just don't know it yet."

Surveying the wreckage of the discarded meal between us, I ticked off what we'd established thus far. "So, I make up with my father, catch up in all my classes, and quit smoking?"

"Yep. And if I could get a little meat onto your bones, that would be nice, too."

I burst out laughing, not just because the sexual innuendo was too blatant to ignore, but also because I know what happens when people try to quit smoking. "I think we're both gonna be busting out of our jeans soon enough."

"Hmm," he grinned again, "then we'll just have to find a way to work it off."

_Now, we're talking_. "And what did you have in mind?"

Edward stood, pushing his chair back with his knees. "Exercise. The literature says it helps."

An unpleasant noise escaped me, a tiny growl of frustration, which made Edward laugh.

"What's the point of making me eat all this food if we're just going to work it off?" I complained, not really expecting an answer other than the smirk he gave me.

I took his extended hand, finding the comfort of his touch enormously reassuring once again. He tossed out our garbage with his free hand and started us back in the direction of my dorm. As we turned the last corner toward my building, I stopped and tugged on his hand so we were facing each other.

"Edward, before we get back, let's just finish this part so we can put it behind us and start moving forward. Are there any other conditions I need to know about?"

Everything he'd already asked of me was more than I felt I could handle individually, let alone all dumped together in one massive makeover, but I was prepared to make my best effort. How could I back away from this challenge when he was willing to give up three weeks of his life to stand beside me, to dig down and do things that were equally hard for him?

He took my other hand and laced our fingers together. We were so close, I could feel his warm breath in the air between us. My heart was hammering against my rib cage.

"Edward Cullen, if you don't want to see how my Oreo shake looks on your boots, you better start talking."

"Okay . . . so, this is the part where my white horse comes in." His eyes, those beautiful, deep green eyes, flipped into bedroom mode. Just like that, I was melting like a marshmallow over a campfire. "This last condition is going to be way harder on me than it is on you."

"What are you gonna do, Edward, spank me?"

The moment the words left my mouth, heat flared on my cheeks.

It was Edward's turn to be stunned—it seemed we were playing ping-pong with the privilege—and a glimmer of excitement illuminated his face. "Now, there's a thought," he said.

The imagery hit me so forcefully that I nearly swayed on my feet.

_Edward, dressed only in those jeans and black boots, naked from the waist up, perched on the end of my bed. _

_Me, completely bare for him, stretched face-down across his lap, my wrists forced together into the small of my back by his firm grasp, his other hand poised to strike. _

"Okay, no. That really wasn't helpful," he was saying, shaking his head to clear away what undoubtedly was a similar picture lodged in his brain. "Bella, I disrespected you the first time around."

"I was a heinous slut who threw myself at you."

"No, I was cruel. I knew I couldn't have you, so I wanted you to suffer the way I was."

"It worked." We both laughed a little, each taking our share of the blame. "Edward, the truth is, I'm the one who disrespected myself—_and_ you. You were clearly putting out a 'back off' vibe, and I ignored it. I was selfish and needy and immature—"

"And horny. Like me."

_God, yes_! Just the word coming off his lips caused a trickle between my legs. I was right back there on that dusty lot, his body covering me, pressing me into the dirt, my legs opening for him—

". . . So this time around," he was saying, "we're going to do things right."

"I don't even know what 'right' is, Edward." It certainly hadn't been James's so-called patience or the cold, forced act behind the library.

"I'm not sure I do either, but I want to figure it out together."

I liked the sound of that. A lot.

* * *

**A/N**: I promised a little touch of Domward, and there it was! So what do you think of the last condition?

Apparently "gobsmacked" came into being in the late 70's (phew) but the nicotine patch did not (thank you, Shell). So these kiddos didn't have quite the options we have today. But then, they have each other! :)

So, would you believe 40 fine ladies collaborated on a fantastic hot potato-style birthday drabble for me, which posted yesterday (a couple days ahead of my birthday)? I remain incredibly touched that so many people worked out all these details, created a gorgeous banner, and pulled together to surprise me-many of whom are first-time writers. If you'd like to check out the story, it's called _**Born To Be Loved **_by** Pumpkin Patchworkers.**

Mr. H is whisking me away to warm climates that don't necessarily have internet access (smart guy) so I'll do my best to answer and post, but I'll see you Sunday for sure. Until then, have a safe and festive Halloween and fill your pumpkins with lots of nice treats!

**XXX ~BOH **


	27. Chapter 27

**~ 27 ~**

Edward brought his boom box in from the truck, along with his extensive cassette collection of Steely Dan and Grateful Dead and The Doors, and time flew while we worked side by side digging through months of accumulated grunge. There was a certain thrill in uncovering my desk, floor, and long lost bean bag chair. The sight of my books and notebooks all lined up like brave little soldiers on the shelf almost made me want to crack one open—_almost_. I was far too mentally exhausted after spending the last five hours with Edward to even contemplate reading. The best I could do was to resolve to get to my classes tomorrow and devise some sort of schedule for catching up.

"I really think we should've straightened up the bed first," I said, shoving aside a small pile of dirty clothes that missed the laundry basket before I fell like a lifeless lump onto the poor excuse for a mattress.

Edward appeared at the foot of my bed, hands on hips. "That would've been a very dangerous decision."

His serious reaction caught me off guard. "Why is that?"

He shifted into what I'd labeled "clench mode" in my head. That beautiful square jaw locked into place while his eyes ticked their way down my body with an intensity I could almost feel. "You are way too hard to resist."

"Ha! Right back at ya, mister!"

Edward rolled his eyes and leveled a serious scowl at me.

"Do you seriously not know how hot you are, Edward?"

His arms folded across his chest and the scowl deepened. This guy was not putting on an act. He really didn't have a clue, which made me wonder just exactly what kind of experience he had with women. That pondering was accompanied by a dull ache in my chest—for his past and for mine.

Side-stepping my question, he asked, "What time do we have to get up tomorrow?"

I couldn't help but grin. "We?"

"Did you not get the part where we're in this together, Bella?"

I stared at him while he waited for me to believe him. It didn't take me very long—the guy was convincing as hell. "My first class is at nine."

"Okay. Where can we get a decent breakfast?"

"Well, _I_ can get one in the dining hall. Unless my father has paid room and board for you, your best bet is probably Burger King."

"Never mind. I'll get a bagel from the truck down the street."

I plugged my nose and mocked my old job. "The coffee truck is on the lot. The coffee truck is on the lot."

As I rocked back into my pillow with the giggles, Edward stared at me and turned all glassy-eyed.

"What?" I asked.

"I missed you."

I melted, but I couldn't speak. Instead, I stretched out my body along the bed and scooted against the wall to make room for him beside me. He stared and pondered the offer and made me squirm with the not knowing. Scrubbing at his chin, scratching at the back of his head, sighing loudly, he looked like a man fighting off a mighty army of objections. I held my breath, thinking I might weep if he didn't lie down beside me.

Finally, he looked up toward the ceiling and shook his head a couple of times. _So that was that_.

But then it wasn't.

He dropped one knee onto the bed, and my heart skipped back to life. "Bella . . ." He sounded like one big apology, like he had disappointed himself and he was about to disappoint me.

I opened my arms, making my vote clear but leaving the decision up to him.

He dropped onto his palms, the flimsy bed squeaking and rocking with his weight. The whole world collapsed into this tiny corner of our togetherness. All that mattered in the universe was Edward, lifting his second knee onto the bed, placing one hand, then one knee, crawling closer to me with a longing in his eyes that had to mirror my own.

It seemed as if the plodding trek took hours, but Edward finally reached my body, caging me in with his hands. He closed his eyes as he leaned in and gently nuzzled my nose with his. I breathed him deep into my lungs, tucking away a piece of this moment to savor. He tickled me, running his nose along my cheek, back toward my ear, into the crevice where my neck and shoulder met. I lay there as still as possible, with shivers and ripples of pleasure washing over me, while he gave me the great gift of his affection.

"I never seen you looking so bad, my funky one," he whisper-sang with Steely Dan.

"Gee, thanks," I answered, causing him to lift his face and smile at me.

"You tell me that your superfine mind has come undone." More melody than whispering this time, and damn, the boy could sing!

"Any major dude with half a heart surely will tell you my friend. Any minor world that breaks apart falls together again."

Tears stung my eyes. He was singing me a promise, the most beautiful fairy tale I'd ever needed to believe. I opened my heart to his message.

"When the demon is at your door, in the morning it won't be there no more."

I found my own voice and joined him for the last line.

"Any major dude will tell you."

The band had to take it from there because Edward's mouth closed over mine, silencing us both. His kiss held a tender urgency that drew out all the tears I'd been fighting back. He hovered over me, dipping to taste my lips as if for the first time, lifting off to reconnect with those intense eyes.

My fingers found their way into his glorious hair, drawing a low purr and a sexy roll of his neck while we kissed. Edward was here because he wanted to be. We weren't in a hurry for something "better." This kiss wasn't foreplay; it just was.

Drawing away with a soft swipe of tongue, he locked onto me again with those laser beam eyes while he sang.

"I can tell you all I know, the where to go, the what to do. You can try to run but you can't hide from what's inside of you."

He let the repeated lyrics pass us by in favor of more kissing and gentle tongue jostling. As the final drum and guitar sequence filled the room, Edward smiled down at me and expressed exactly what I'd been thinking all along.

"That was kind of perfect."

* * *

**A/N:** So . . . a kiss. A new beginning, a real connection. _*insert happy face here* _I searched my memories of my mister's college cassette collection and listened to much of the soundtrack of our courtship before I landed on Steely Dan's _Any Major Dude Will Tell You_. I knew it was right when it made me cry as the background track. I hope it worked for you.

Thank you all for your lovely birthday wishes and for understanding that I couldn't get to review replies this time, though I read and loved all your insights and entertaining comments. My Facebook group is still up and running, but the pumpkin has left the building. I'll miss the daily interactions and creative exchange of ideas, but this was the right decision for me.

You can still find me here on ff. I always check the PM's before reviews, so if you need me, hit me. (Just, ya know, not too hard. The pumpkin shell is fairly delicate.)

**XXX ~BOH**


	28. Chapter 28

**~ 28 ~**

_. . . I'll die as I stand here today  
__Knowing that deep in my heart . . ._

"Bella."

_They'll fall to ruin one day  
__For making us part . . ._

"Mmm?"

"Your alarm," he grumbled. _Edward_. The arms around my waist, the strong chest at my back, the warm breath on my shoulder. And now, the soft lips at my neck.

"How do you expect me to move when you're doing _that_?" I complained but not really.

_O-oh, back on the chain gang._

"I'm waking you up," he answered.

"Thanks, but I think The Pretenders already did the heavy lifting," I said with a chuckle. I managed to free one arm and slap the snooze button.

"Gotta love Chrissie. There's one Akron girl who hit the big time. Maybe you're next, Bella."

I flopped onto my back, rolling into Edward's warm, overly clothed body. We'd both fallen asleep dressed just as we were when the kissing began. "You're the one with the great voice, major dude."

Edward chuffed, as he always did when I tried to give him a compliment. "I'm not a bad singer for an auto mechanic."

I stretched my neck and surprised him with a kiss. "You're not a bad kisser either."

After a few seconds, he cupped my cheek and pulled me off. "You're stalling. Time to get up."

I gave him an overly dramatic sigh. "Would this be the shit storm?"

"This is barely a drizzle," he answered. "Speaking of water, go get your shower."

True to his word, Edward packed up his own study books and walked me to my management class. I stole another kiss for courage, and he left me in the doorway of Pryor while he headed to the library.

Organizational Behavior was a small seminar—only twenty-five students in the class—so it was a big deal when I walked in after skipping four weeks of class. Professor Denali did a double-take, but her expression of shock was immediately tamed into a warm, welcoming smile and an approving nod.

"I thought you were dead," one of my least favorite classmates whispered as I slinked in next to her into the only seat left.

"I was," I answered back without the least trace of sarcasm.

At the end of class, the professor appeared at my desk while I was packing up. "It's great to see you, Bella."

"Thanks." My classmates gathered their belongings and hightailed it out of there, giving us space for my private lecture.

"Listen, I don't know where you've been or why you stayed away, but I'm so pleased you came back."

"Thank you," I mumbled again, waiting restlessly for her to drop the other shoe.

"Bella, we all want you to succeed. _I _want you to succeed. If you need any help catching up, or you just need someone to talk to, please don't hesitate to come see me."

I was caught off guard by her compassion. "You're not mad?"

She shook her head no and smiled. "I was worried about you. College can be a rough ride, even for the best of students—especially the first couple years while you're still figuring out who you want to be. All kinds of things happen to people . . ."

Her voice trailed off, and I assumed she went to the same dark places as I did.

"We're all on your side, Bella. I want you to remember that if you find yourself in a rough place again."

I swallowed over the enormous lump in my throat and forced out another lame thank you.

"You bet." She stepped away so I could manage my exit with whatever grace I could muster at that point. Luckily, the tears held off until I made it to the bathroom.

My finance class was a large lecture, so I could sneak in anonymously. I took furious notes and spent most of the ninety minutes managing my anxiety about how far behind I'd fallen in everything.

_I can do this_, I reminded myself repeatedly, picturing Edward's face and sinking into the comfort of our beautiful kisses. _We can do this._

That was all well and good until Edward met me outside the lecture hall, his eyes searching me for doubt—of which there was much to be found.

"How'd the studying go?" I asked in a preemptive strike.

He shrugged. "Slow. How 'bout you?"

I sighed and told him the truth. "It's scary. I have a lot of catching up and not much time to do it."

Edward cringed. I guess that wasn't what he was expecting to hear. My heart sank with that little glimpse of what disappointing him might feel like. I wasn't sure either of us could handle that.

"Edward, are you sure you want to stick around for this?"

"Yes." His answer was swift, confident, and a bit pissed off. "Please don't ask me that again."

"Okay. Sorry."

"So . . . are you ready?"

This was it. Our one last smoke.

"Are you sure we have to do this today? Can't we make it a New Year's resolution like two normal people?"

Edward frowned and went straight into clench mode. "Are you planning to question everything on a daily basis? Because if you are, none of this is going to work." He stepped back, probably without even realizing it, but the withdrawal was significant. "None of it," he repeated.

"Whoa. Hold on. You don't have to go there! This is hard, you know!"

"Yes, I'm aware."

_Duh, Bella_. A closer look at Edward told me what I was too selfish to see the first time. Edward had somehow assumed superhero status in my eyes, but that characterization just wasn't fair. He was a skin-and-bones, vulnerable human about to jump from a tall cliff without a parachute, and he was barely holding his own shit together. My doubt wasn't helping either of us stick to our commitment.

I grabbed a handful of his shirt and pulled him back in. "I'm sorry _again_. I promise I won't balk anymore—at anything."

"Anything?" He wasn't just asking me; he was asking himself if he could trust my answer.

"Right."

"Good, because you're calling your father as soon as we get back from the market. You need to have that talk before the nicotine withdrawal sets in."

And there it was, the shit storm as promised. No candy coating, no princess treatment. This was my new reality, but so was the man standing in front of me, offering me his strength and support.

There was simply no more room for doubts. I looked him right in the eyes and gave him my word. "I'm ready."

* * *

**A/N: **Ready?

Love you guys.

**XXX ~BOH**


	29. Chapter 29

**~ 29 ~**

I led Edward to my favorite bench, one of the few designated smoking areas on campus where one might actually catch a little sun. I tapped out the brave soldier that would be my last cigarette ever, and Edward immediately held out his hand for the box. I was only a little shaky as I dropped it into his palm and watched him toss it in the garbage with his own.

"Dead man walking," he joked, lighting us both up.

I was instantly put at ease by his sexy grin around the Marlboro hanging from his lips. "What should we have for our last meal, then?"

He pinched the cigarette and pulled it away from his mouth, releasing a slow curl of smoke while he pondered lunch. "I could go for one of those giant hot dogs with relish and mustard."

I giggled. "Getting a head start on satisfying your oral fixation, are you?"

His head swiveled, and those eyebrows popped up. "Did you just go there?"

Instead of enjoying the playful moment with Edward, I was suddenly twisted up inside with the hideous memory of my humiliating experience with Alec.

"Bella, what's wrong? I was just kidding. Shit." His arm closed around my shoulders, and he kissed the side of my head.

"I think I need to tell you something." I already figured I'd have to tell him before tomorrow because I still wasn't sure how I was going to show my face in Baroque. Maybe now was a good time, while we still both had the comfort of our smokes.

Edward shifted uneasily on the bench, turning to face me. "Okay."

"I've . . ." _How in the hell was I supposed to do this?_ "been with some guys." I dragged on my Camel, praying for courage.

Edward didn't answer, just waited.

"I guess I was looking for something I'd lost," I admitted.

"Did you find it?" I caught a waver in his voice that wasn't there before.

"Not 'til you got here."

He nodded, then asked, "I guess I should've asked before I kissed you last night, but better late than never. Are you involved with someone else?"

"God, no! It's been weeks since I've even talked to anyone."

"Okay," he said again. "Bella, if it makes this easier for you, I've been with other girls, too."

Oddly, his admission was both excruciating and liberating. "You're not still . . .?" I couldn't even say it.

"No. Nothing for you to worry about."

It was my turn to say, "Okay," while we both quietly dragged and contemplated.

"There's more, isn't there?" he finally asked.

After a long puff, I answered, "Some of the boys I chose weren't very nice. Especially the last one."

Edward stiffened, tense and ready to strike. "God, Bella. You didn't get hurt, did you?"

"No. Well, not much. I'm not even sure he knew I was upset."

"Ugh, don't make excuses for the guy."

"I'm not." I leaned forward, resting my elbows on my knees. This conversation was a little easier once I didn't have to look into his eyes.

"Do you want to tell me what happened?"

"Do you really want to hear it?"

He sighed and relaxed back into the bench, stretched out his long legs in front of us, and crossed them at the ankles. "I think I could probably set aside being a jealous asshole long enough to be your friend. Sure. Fire away."

I kind of liked the idea of him being jealous over me, and for a second, I basked in that warmth. As great as it made me feel, it wasn't half as wonderful as his offer to be a friend.

"You probably guessed I didn't have much experience with boys when I met you."

I waited for him to laugh or tease, but he did neither. "What about Mr. Slick?

"What I thought was 'saving myself for marriage,' James apparently considered being a tease. When he finally let that little bit of honesty slip, we were completely over."

Edward dropped his hand to my back, just inside my jacket collar, and started massaging my neck. "You have a right to your values, Bella. Anybody you're with should understand and respect that."

"What if I liked . . . what you and I did on the back lot?"

His hand stilled for a second, then started up again. "I'm really not proud of the way that all went down, but in theory, I believe there's nothing wrong with doing whatever you want as long as you're both on the same page. I mean, sex is fun. It feels good. You're supposed to like it. Survival of the species depends on it!"

I had to laugh at his enthusiasm. "Spoken like a guy who's had a lot of sex."

"Are you asking?"

"I think you just answered the question."

"Okay, Perry Mason." I could hear the smile in his voice.

Curiosity won out over fear. "I guess I'm asking," I said.

Edward acknowledged my question with a nod. "I was a pretty big mess after Dad passed. I used to hang out at Red's a bunch. They didn't know me down there, so I got away with pretending I was a lot older. I was such a punk, throwing away Dad's insurance money on twelve-year-old Scotch and fancy cigars. Anyway, I met somebody one night, and she kind of made me her pet project."

"You dated?"

He scoffed. "I wouldn't exactly call it dating. She'd call and I'd jump. I knew better than to pass up an offer like that. Ten minutes later, we'd be naked. There was absolutely nothing personal. It was just sex, pure and raw."

I knew I should have been repelled by his story, but it had the opposite effect. I admired him for his unapologetic attitude and even more so for his honesty. It helped take the sting out of picturing Edward with another woman.

"How long did this go on?" For some reason, I really needed to hear that he wasn't still with her when I met him.

"Just until your dad hired me. I straightened up for Charlie, really got my act together." The irony wasn't lost on me; he'd been through this exact process himself.

"You said you've been with other girls since I left?"

His hand was still making that soothing motion, but his words gutted me. "You really rattled my cage. You were this ideal girl that I could never have, and then I did, and then I couldn't again. I knew I'd never have a chance at anyone like you again."

"Oh my god, Edward, that is so untrue."

"It took me a while to climb out of that hole. On my way, I needed a little reassurance."

"And you got it." I twisted my neck around so I could look at him. It still baffled me that Edward didn't realize how attractive he was.

He took another puff before answering with a shrug. "I suppose—as much as meaningless sex can be reassuring."

"Exactly."

His eyebrows lifted with a thousand unasked questions, each deserving of my honesty.

I tried. "It felt good to have somebody wanting me, even though it was just . . ." Edward knew me too well, knew my past and my family and too many of my shortcomings. Shame overtook me, and my eyes fell away.

His cool hand cupped my chin, drawing me back to his face. "I want you to tell me what happened, Bella. Just put it out there so we can deal with it."

Snippets from that awful conversation with Angela suddenly barraged me. For once, with Edward in my corner, I could see at least glimpses of the truth. I wasn't responsible for how casually Alec had treated me, but there was absolutely a measure of blame I needed to own. Determined to get it out this time, I said, "I did something really demeaning with a boy I barely knew."

Edward flinched. "Oral."

His face got blurry through my tears. I nodded yes.

Edward's gaze wandered to the end of the cigarette he was nursing, and I noticed mine was in the same sorry state. "Maybe we should have one more?" I suggested with a grim smile.

He laughed and dropped the butt to the cement, grinding it out with his heavy boot. "Nice try." He watched me closely while I did the same.

"I take it that was your first time?" he asked. There was no mocking, but my face heated up just the same. All I could do was nod again, still trapped in the palm of his hand.

His thumb brushed lightly across my lips, like an eraser crossing the blackboard. "Was the bum at least appreciative?"

My only defense was closing my eyes, but that didn't stop the tears from releasing. "Not particularly."

His soft lips closed over mine while his thumbs brushed away my tears. "I'm sorry," he mumbled against my lips.

"_I'm_ sorry."

_Sorry I ruined myself for you._

"Did you see him again?" he asked.

"God no!"

"Good."

"I'm so ashamed. I really wish I could take the whole thing back."

"As far as I'm concerned, Bella, this is a new beginning—for you and for us. Clean slate. Put all of it behind you."

"Yeah, well, he's in my music class tomorrow, and I'm not sure how I'm gonna make it through."

"I'm going with you—that's how."

"What?"

"I said I'm going with you to class. End of story."

"You're not gonna say something to him, are you?"

"No, not unless I need to."

"Kiss me again?"

He happily complied, then pulled back and grinned. "At the risk of sounding self-serving, I'd like to point out that oral sex is anything but demeaning with the right partner."

* * *

**A/N: **A few more details about Edward's past and why Charlie might've been a wee bit apprehensive about him as a suitor.

The truth about Alec and the last cigarette.

Phone call with Charlie coming up. (_B.S., phone home_.)

I told you shit was getting heavy. How do you guys like the daily posting? Too fast?

**xxx ~BOH**


	30. Chapter 30

**~ 30 ~**

"Are you sure you're not trying to kill me?"

Edward laughed. "No, I'm the superhero in this story. Have you forgotten already?"

That cracked me right up. "A superhero with a weakness for Cheetos? And don't be getting that orange crap all over my bedspread!"

He sexy-grinned me. "Look who's worried about keeping the room clean: the girl who couldn't even find her bed yesterday! And don't think I don't know you're stalling, Swan."

I stared at the phone sitting between us on the bed. I was totally stalling. There was a long list of things I'd wanted to say to my father—things I'd practiced indignantly in the mirror for months, in fact—but that had all changed when Edward knocked on my door. Right now, I probably had more questions than anything.

"I'm really gonna want a cigarette after this."

"Here." Edward reached into the Shop-Rite bag sitting next to him and tossed a bag of Tootsie Pops into my lap.

"Meanie."

Ignoring my name-calling, he popped a Cheeto between his orange-powdered lips. "Call him, Bella."

"Fine," I grumbled, picking up the handset and punching in the numbers. Mom answered, giving my heart a little chance to slow down.

"Hi, honey. How are you?"

"I'm good, Mom. How are you?"

"We're fine." That was Mom, always answering in the plural as if I'd forget I had a father otherwise. "So . . . what's new?"

"Hmm, let's see. Oh, I know. A certain guy I used to know showed up at my door last night!"

Edward smirked and crunched.

"How'd that go?"

"It was okay at first," I said, peeking over at Edward, "but then he started bossing me all over the place, and now I can't get rid of him." Two Cheetos flew across my bed and hit me in the nose.

Mom's relieved chuckle rang through the line. "I've had the same problem with your father since 1958. Good luck with that."

I closed my eyes and soaked up the sweet sound of our shared laughter. It had been way too long. "Thanks, Mom," I said.

"Don't thank me, Bella. It was your father's idea."

My breath caught in my throat, but somehow I managed, "Is he there?"

"Sure. Hang on."

I took a deep breath and another glance at Edward while I heard Mom calling Dad to the phone. I thought I was ready for his greeting, but all he got out was, "Bells," before I completely lost it.

"Bells? Y'okay?"

Between sobs, I was able to give him an "Mmhmm." Edward pressed some Kleenex into my hand and stayed close to my side. I wiped the tears away.

"I hear my care package arrived?"

"Mmhmm."

"I hope it's okay I asked Edward to go up there. I didn't know what else to do. Your mother and I have been worried sick about you."

_Don't cry. Don't cry_. "It's good. Thanks."

I could hear him smile. "That's good, then. I'm glad."

I couldn't pretend to have any meaningful conversation until we got the hard part out of the way. "Dad, why'd you let me think you fired him?"

"Oh, Bella," he sighed, "believe me, when I left our house that night, I had every intention of firing him. I was seeing red. I saw my daughter slipping away, and I wanted someone to blame. When I heard Edward's side of it, learned of his feelings for you, I knew it wasn't anybody's fault. He was all torn up, too."

I was afraid to look over at Edward again.

"With a little bit of distance, I cooled down enough to know I had no legal grounds to fire Edward even if I had wanted to, but I needed you to see that your actions had consequences, and I was worried that you'd try to see him again if you knew he was still at Swan. In retrospect, I made a lot of mistakes—starting long before you came home for the summer—and I'm truly sorry."

I'd waited three long months to hear those words.

I'd never gone through that spiteful teenager phase of finding a million reasons to resent my parents. Honestly, what was there to resent? The roof over my head, the college they paid for, the unconditional love and support? Sure, we had the occasional clash, but my parents were cool. Maybe things were different for me because I was an only child, but we just always treated each other with respect and a sort of not-quite-equal equality. I didn't know how to do this fighting or making up thing with them.

A fresh flood of tears poured down my face, and while I was mopping them up, Edward scooted behind me, opened his legs around my back, and wrapped his arms around my belly. I sank back into the comfort of his strong chest, and he dropped his chin to my shoulder.

With Edward behind me, literally supporting me, I found the strength to tell my father what he needed to hear. "I'm not your innocent little girl anymore. You need to be able to live with that."

Dad groaned, and I actually felt a little bad for him. I knew how it felt for me when Dad's pedestal crumbled, and he'd experienced that in spades. My growing up wasn't easy on either of us. "I don't really have a choice, do I? I just have to trust you to make good decisions, Bella."

_Amen._

As much as I wanted to believe I was in control and independent, my father's opinions still mattered deeply to me.

"So, I take it you've had a change of heart about Edward, seeing as you've sent him up here to rescue me? You must know you've just thrown us together in close quarters." The man behind me tightened his grip and nibbled on my ear, causing me to squirm and giggle.

Dad chuffed. "I know you can hear me, too, Edward, so I'll say this to both of you. Edward was no Eagle Scout when I met him, that's for sure."

Edward chuckled, the rumble in his chest shaking us both.

"Anyway, I've always known Edward was special. I saw something in him—a commitment level rare in a seventeen-year-old boy. He worked hard, never missed a day, never punched in late or wasted one minute on the clock. His paycheck went for food, not booze, and the carousing stopped. Am I right, Edward?"

Edward lifted his lips from my neck long enough to answer with a firm, "Yes, sir."

"Okay." Dad drew a relieved breath before continuing. "He's a nice young man, Bella. I have nothing against him, nothing at all. I put the fear of God in that boy about staying away from you because I wanted you to have the world at your doorstep and not feel tethered to Akron."

"What's so bad about Akron?"

"Nothing, Bella. Nothing at all. Your mother and I have made a perfectly wonderful life for ourselves here, but the dealership is a cement block around our feet; there's just no escaping that. A parent always wants more for his child. I never wanted you to feel compelled to take over the business or settle for a local boy without seeing what else the world has to offer."

I didn't want to tell my father that I'd sampled some of those other boys. "More doesn't always mean better, Dad," I said quietly.

"I know, Bells. And I also know it's not up to me to decide who you give your heart to—or your body, for that matter. Ugh, I can't believe I just said that."

Edward chuckled again, clasping his hands around my stomach and pulling my body back into his chest. I knew I was blushing like a fiend. Time to cut things short with Dad, but first I needed to make sure I'd fulfilled my requirement. I covered the mouthpiece with my hand.

"Can I be done now?" I pleaded.

"Oh yeah." Edward's grin told me he had other plans for me—far better plans.

"Dad, this was great. We'll talk again soon?"

"Sure, Bells. Anytime. Happy to hear your voice again. I've missed you so much."

"Me too, Dad."

"Me too, Charlie," Edward teased, earning himself a firm poke in the belly.

* * *

**A/N: **Now what does Cheeto-chomping Edward have planned for newly-reconciled Bella? I hope you're grinning because I am.

**xxx ~BOH**


	31. Chapter 31

**~ 31 ~**

"You think you're pretty funny, don't you?"

"Mmhmm," Edward answered, twisting my body in his lap so we were facing each other.

I looped my arms around his neck and played with the ends of his hair. "I could really use a smoke right now."

"I have a better idea," he said. I caught the twinkle in his eyes just before he leaned in and kissed me. Our tongues wasted no time finding each other, and his was covered in artificial cheese powder, which made me giggle.

"Okaaaay?"

"Sorry. You taste like a big Cheeto!"

"Better than an ashtray, right?"

"The jury is still out on that one. You just tasted like _you_ before. Now you're . . . cheesy."

He pulled me in again, and with our lips touching, he smiled and said, "Better get used to it. This is the new me, and I'm going to be kissing you a lot."

As he made good on his promise, I very quickly decided I could get used to this. Shoving books and phone and snack foods out of the way, Edward pulled me down to the mattress with him, and the bed let out an angry squawk. "I'm not sure this piece-of-shit bed can handle all the things I want to do to you, Bella."

I really liked the sound of that, bed springs be damned. Edward rolled onto his side and pressed the length of his body along mine. I loved the feel of him next to me—strong and protective. He stared into my eyes, pretty much turning me into mush, and I gasped when his finger reached out and traced down the side of my face.

"What do you want to do to me?" I asked, because I really needed to know what was going on behind those deep green eyes of his.

His serious mouth turned up a little bit at the edges as his eyes followed his finger down the length of my neck. "I want to look at you." Though we'd been alone in my room for a while now, his soft-spoken words bound us together in a way that gave me goosebumps. "I want to touch you," he continued, drawing his finger between my breasts. "I want to _taste_ you." He delivered this message with a swipe of his tongue across his lower lip, and I was pretty much ready to do anything he wanted.

Edward's warm hand slipped under the bottom of my shirt and his fingers touched my belly. "I want to make you feel so good, you'll never need anyone else again."

I whimpered out loud, completely unprepared for his declaration. Thank god he kissed me just then, covering up a fraction of my embarrassment. The hard lump in his pants pressed against me as we tumbled and played, taking our time and not really caring who was on top or in control of our kisses. I wanted to make him feel good too, more than anything.

His fingers slipped higher while we were kissing, locking my thoughts onto a singular desire like a record-player needle stuck in a deep groove: _Touch me, touch me, please, please, touch me._ My brain tracked the hot trail of his fingertips up my skin, my entire being focused on the soft, teasing brush of his thumb just below my bra. I pictured an airplane that had taxied out to the runway but was now awaiting permission to take off.

I slipped my arms between us and shimmied my shirt up over my bra, pausing at my neck until he broke the seal between our lips so I could finish the job. Edward closed his mouth over mine again, kissing me slowly and deeply before pulling back to sit on his knees and look at me. My chest was rising and dropping between us, and I had to fight the urge to cross my arms over my bra, but I wanted him to see me; I wanted him to know me.

He reached over his shoulder and tugged on his shirt. I watched with great fascination as a tiny sliver of bare skin turned into a swath, and soon his whole blessed chest was uncovered. I'd seen his shoulders before—that day he spilled the oil—but I'd only imagined what his chest must've looked like under that wife-beater. He was perfect, of course. Toned (but not _I-spend-hours-in-the-gym-bulking-up_), tiny, tan nipples standing in the middle of a pair of hard mounds, smooth and hairless, except for a thin, straight trail starting just south of his belly button and disappearing inside his jeans. I wanted to touch him almost as badly as I wanted him to touch me.

I watched him take a big swallow. "Are you comfortable?"

I was a live wire buzzing with need. I was anything but comfortable. "I'm cold."

"Here, let me get—"

"No," I answered, snapping his wrist away from the blanket he was about to grab. "I want _you_."

He blinked down with understanding, and a beautiful smile spread across his face. "I want you more," he answered as he dropped his hands on either side of my shoulders and flopped forward until we were almost touching. "You're so beautiful, Bella," he whispered.

"Please. Touch me."

His lips covered mine, and I felt the faintest tickle of his belly against my skin. Lower he sank, more of his delicious skin meeting mine. The tight ridges of his chest met my bra, and I had the sudden urge to rip off not just the bra, but all the clothes separating our two bodies. Edward's lips began a slow descent down the contour of my chin and into the crook of my neck; at the same time, his fingers crawled up my stomach, past my belly button and higher. My brain couldn't decide which motion to track, and I was only able to calm myself by focusing on the middle—the spot where they were bound to meet if all this exploration continued—and I prayed it would.

Edward grunted softly as he pressed light kisses into the space between my breasts, downward, kiss, lick, down . . . and all the while his hands traveled up. The slide of his skin against my stomach felt so incredibly decadent. _More. I need more_. By the time his mouth and hands met at my bra, I was shivering full-on and writhing beneath his body.

"Take it off, please." The wanton sound of my own voice startled me, but I was turned on beyond belief. I wanted to say all kinds of dirty things to him, and I wanted him to say them back. He didn't need me to ask twice. My bra was unhooked before I could draw another breath, and he held me in place with the intensity in his eyes while he slid the straps down both arms and tossed away my Victoria's Secret special.

Edward straddled my hips and sat back, licked his lips and stared as if he were looking through a window at an all-you-can-eat buffet. I took his hand in mine and lifted it in invitation, and that's all he needed. He caressed me with the palm of his hand, trailing his thumb across my nipple and watching the way it stood straight up for him. God, he owned me—pretty much had since my first glance across the showroom.

"That feels good," I told him, trying out my new sex speak.

"Yeah?" He smiled and dipped down to take me in his mouth, gently sucking and lapping at me, making me shiver and squirm while I ran my fingers through the wild mess of his hair.

I nearly knocked us both off the bed when he took my nipple between his teeth, and he chuckled while he worked his mouth back up to mine. Blanketing me with his warm body from head to toe, he kissed me enthusiastically while I roamed the terrain of his back with both hands. I felt entirely captured and consumed by him, and I couldn't imagine a better feeling.

And then he wrecked everything.

"Bella, I think we need to stop."

* * *

**A/N**: Okay fine, yell at me for blocking, but don't forget all that other good stuff I gave you before that! ;)

**XXX ~BOH**


	32. Chapter 32

**~ 32 ~**

He tried to soften the blow by kissing me sweetly and playing with my hair and looking deep into my eyes, but I wasn't buying it. He even managed to look pained as I pulled on my shirt. No way was I putting my bra back on. Fuck him. My boobs were free and I was not about to strap those puppies back in.

"I thought you wanted me."

Edward groaned. "Oh, I want you," he assured me before rolling onto his back and pinching his eyes closed with his free hand. "I want a fucking cig—"

"Oh, don't even! That's what got us started in the first place, remember?"

Sliding his other arm out from beneath me, he scrubbed at his face with both hands. "Yeah."

"What's the deal here, Edward?"

He peeked between his fingers. It didn't take a genius to hear that I was pissed. "I'm sorry, Bella. I don't want to take advantage of you."

I wanted to punch him in the stomach—or lower. "How are you taking advantage of me if I want this?"

Cautiously, he pulled his hands away from his face. "I made us both a promise that we would do this right. I really don't think jumping your bones is being respectful of you."

I pushed myself up so I was sitting next to his stomach, his beautiful, tight, bare stomach. "I think it's plenty respectful."

He took one look at my pout and started to laugh. "You sure can be a little spitfire when you make up your mind."

That deserved a whack with the pillow.

"Ouch!" he complained, still chuckling while batting away the pillow.

"Why do you get to decide everything? It's not fair! You made all the stupid rules, and I put up with everything. I went to class, I called my dad, I _gave up cigarettes_! But this . . . _this_ . . . just, no!"

He stopped laughing when he saw the tears in my eyes. Chucking the pillow out of the way, he sat up in front of me, took my wrists in his hands, and held me still while he kissed me. "Hey," he started, using that soft, sexy voice that just made everything worse, "I'm sorry. I just don't want you to wake up tomorrow and hate yourself. Or me." He blinked at me with what I can only call puppy dog eyes.

"Why would I?"

"Bella, come on. You've been a vir—"

"Ohmygod! Don't you dare say it, Edward Cullen!"

"Fine," he conceded with a kind smile, "you've held onto certain values, and I don't want you to suddenly toss that aside in the heat of passion."

I wrestled out of his grip so I could put my hands on my hips and properly scowl. "So it's okay for you but not for me? Don't you think that's the goose calling the gander black?"

"What?" he burst out in a confused laugh.

"Double standard much?"

"Bella, my first time was a long time ago. That has no bearing on this conversation."

"The hell it doesn't! Do you regret your first time?"

He fell back onto his haunches, suddenly doing his best impersonation of a balloon with the air let out. "No, not really."

"What does that mean?"

His eyes bounced around from his knees to the window and finally settled on his hands folded in his lap. "She was fine, I mean nice enough, ya know? I don't exactly regret how it all happened, and she taught me a lot . . ."

"About being a sex god?"

His cheeks turned bright pink. "Yes, Bella. I'm a sex god now."

The tension finally broke between us, and we shared a laugh. I bit the inside of my cheek, so I'd remember to let him talk.

"It's not a huge deal, but sometimes I just wish the memories I have of that first time were with someone I really cared about, that's all."

My fingers found their way into his lap, and our hands intertwined with an ease that felt like we'd been together for years, not mere days. "I want that too, Edward. That's why I want mine to be you."

"I want it to be me, too," he replied immediately. "So much. I just want it to be when you're ready."

"I'm ready."

He chuckled at my overeager response, then leaned in and kissed me like he meant it. Pulling back for a breath, I caught him looking at me like he was trying to figure something out.

"What?"

"Are you sure you don't want candles and roses?"

I so didn't, but the fact that he asked made me warm and gooey inside. "I'm sure."

"Okay." I sat there while he weighed the evidence and decided our fate. "Tell you what, why don't we give ourselves a few days to get some work done and let the worst of the nicotine withdrawal pass, and that way, we'll have something to look forward to."

"A fuck at the end of the tunnel?"

His eyes popped wide open, and I enjoyed a secret thrill that I could still shock him like that.

"Oh my god, Bella."

But I wasn't going to be sidetracked now. I had an almost iron-clad deal. "So, Friday will be the night? No more sexus interruptus?"

He tried to be stern, but it only made him look even more comical when he pointed his finger at me. "_If_ we've stuck to our plan."

"Hmm, I don't think I should be penalized—or should I say _unpenisized_—if you should happen to fall off the wagon."

"I'm not falling off any wagons, Bella. I've been waiting for you for a long time."

_Damn_. Sweet and sappy pushed away playful teasing, just like that. I can't say I missed it. Not even for a second.

* * *

**A/N: **Did the sex god redeem himself?

You guys were adorable on that last one. The votes were definitely more slanted toward wanting to pelt Edward with Cheetos, but a good number of you praised E for his self-restraint. So . . . can they wait until Friday? Can you?

I'm in the mountains of Vermont today so I'm not sure I'll be able to reply to reviews before posting tomorrow. I'll do my best! And please know how much I appreciate each of your reviews.

**XXX ~BOH**


	33. Chapter 33

**~ 33 ~**

_". . . the Seattle dentist who received the Jarvik 7 twelve days ago is said to be in good spirits today—"_

"Ugh, that's more than I can say," Edward grumbled, slapping the alarm into submission.

I peeked over my shoulder at my—_Hmm, what the hell was he? Boyfriend? Life coach? Best friend? Temptation? Yes, all of the above_—Edward, savoring the few seconds I had left of his sexy body wrapped in the tight white tank we'd compromised on last night. It was pretty much a win for me whether he wore his Grateful Dead T-shirt, this undershirt, or nothing at all.

While I delighted in the roll of his sculpted shoulders, he yanked his pillow out from under his neck and smothered his head in a vain attempt to block out the new day. I scooted closer to Mr. Grump and ran my hand down his side.

"Don't." His voice was muffled, but his meaning was clear as a bell.

_He's human, _I had to remind myself_, and he's frustrated—which is pretty much his own damn fault—but he's also been smoking a long time. Nothing easy about any of this._

I lifted my hand quickly and offered an apology before rolling out of bed. By the time I got back from the shower, Edward was already dressed and ready to go, wet hair glistening in the muted sunlight streaming through my tiny dorm window.

"I'm sorry about before," he said. "I guess I'm a little cranky this morning." His hand flew to the back of his head, his anxious tell.

I stepped closer, holding my towel at the knot sitting on my chest. "You don't have to apologize, Edward." He accepted my freshly-brushed-teeth kiss, returning the minty taste with artificial cheese flavoring.

"Not the best combo," he said sheepishly.

I couldn't resist teasing him as my taste buds tried to make sense of it all. "Breakfast of champions."

"We better get some real food before class."

"You're really coming with me to Baroque?"

Edward's eyes narrowed. "You're not seriously doubting me again, are you?"

"Nope, nope, sorry, getting dressed . . ."

I wouldn't have minded blow-drying my hair or even putting on a smidge of lip gloss, but I could tell Edward was restless, so I just pulled on my clothes and ran a quick brush through my hair. Thinking twice about the cold December air, I grabbed my knit cap at the last second. Icicles weren't my best look.

I was so twisted up inside over facing Alec, I didn't have time for nicotine fits, but Edward was a different story—a very edgy one at that. Once we got outside, he sucked in a deep breath of the frigid air and tucked his hands inside his pockets.

"You okay?" I asked.

"Just jolly."

"I've got some tootsie pops in my backpack."

"Maybe after breakfast."

We walked in silence after that, hopping from one foot to the other to keep warm in the line for the food truck. Edward ordered us orange juice and egg sandwiches—two for himself and one for me—and he'd started to look a little bit calmer by the time we got to my class.

Alec was sitting in his usual spot by the door, and his face lit up for a second when he saw me. "Hey!" As he took in Edward's presence, the shine faded into recognition. He knew Edward wasn't in the class, that he was only here for one reason, and I imagined Alec thought the reason was hanging between Edward's legs. The two boys eyed each other warily, but Edward held to his promise not to say anything.

I may have stared at Alec a beat too long, but I honestly couldn't believe that I'd ever been attracted to the guy. In the shadow of Edward, Alec was nothing special at all. I had zero feelings for the guy—good, bad, or otherwise—but that didn't preclude my cheeks from heating up with shame for what I'd done.

I gave Alec a noncommittal echo "hey" and led Edward to the far side of the classroom.

Edward leaned in and whispered, "That was the guy?"

"Yeah."

"He looks just like me."

"_What_?" My eyes cut toward the door, briefly locking awkwardly with Alec's. "He does not."

Edward chuckled. "You don't see it? The guy could be my stunt double, Bella."

I put my lips right up to his ear. "Edward, you're at least a billion times hotter than he is."

That self-effacing laugh fell from his lips. "At least."

I unzipped my backpack and pulled out the notebook that hadn't seen the light of day for three weeks. On top of the Alec guilt and humiliation, the _How-did-I-do-this-to-myself _regret over skipping classes was almost more than I could bear. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, willing away the pity party as best as I could.

Just when I needed him most, Edward scooted closer to me, pressing his buttery leather jacket-covered arm against mine and wrapping his reassuring fingers around my shaking hand.

I laid my cheek on his shoulder and sank into his beautiful eyes. "Thanks," I mouthed.

He leaned down and left a soft kiss on my lips. "That's what I'm here for."

I was counting my blessings for about the hundredth time when Edward's eyes flicked over my shoulder. "He's staring at you."

"That's his problem," I said, resisting the urge to peek. "Stop looking at him."

"I'm ready for that tootsie pop."

"Good idea." Digging into my backpack, I grabbed him a handful. "Better take a few. It's a ninety-minute class."

"I'm in a grape mood." How did he manage to make unwrapping a lollipop adorable? Oh yeah, the boyish grin, all innocent until that tongue came out to play. "How many licks does it take . . ." he started, doing his best cartoon owl imitation.

Just then, Professor Volturi walked in and set his bag down on the table at the front of the room. My heart pounded while he scanned the class from behind his dark-rimmed glasses and middle-aged hippie haircut. When I felt his eyes on me, I lifted the hand that Edward wasn't holding and gave my professor a little wave. He acknowledged my presence with a slight nod and flicked on the projector.

"This week, we're delving into the final piece on the syllabus—Vivaldi's Violin Concerto in E Major_._ It's fitting that we would end the course with what one Vivaldi scholar has called 'the most influential collection of instrumental music to appear during the whole of the eighteenth century.' Let's have a listen to the Allegro."

The needle dropped, filling the room with the bright, crisp hue of stringed instruments. It occurred to me for the first time that Edward might be bored out of his mind for the next hour and a half. I'd only yesterday learned that he had a fantastic singing voice, and I was suddenly curious how he'd respond to classical music. I stole a sideways glance at the enigma sitting next to me. He was relaxed into his seat, sucking thoughtfully on the grape pop, gazing straight ahead without focus. He must've felt my eyes on him because he turned his head and watched me, reading my eyes as if the music were written there.

Edward's thumb moved subtly up and down along my knuckle, connecting us while the music inhabited our two separate bodies. Something was bubbling up from under the surface, an emotion I hadn't felt in so long, I barely recognized it.

I was content.

* * *

**A/N: **Poor Grumpward. But he redeemed himself later. :)

**XXX ~BOH**


	34. Chapter 34

**~ 34 ~**

"What'd you think?"

"Not as painful as I thought it would be."

Edward had polished off four tootsie pops, and the empty sticks were lined up like battle-weary soldiers along his desk.

"Your extravagant praise is going to make me blush." Edward chuckled as Professor Volturi walked over and stood in front of us. "Miss Swan, so nice to see you. And you are . . .?"

"Edward Cullen."

The two men shook hands. "Well, Edward, I should either be wondering where you've had Bella tied up for the last three weeks or thanking you for bringing her back to class."

Edward laughed again. "Or maybe both," he joked, politely gathering up his trash and excusing himself from our conversation. "I'll wait for you by the door, Bella."

"So . . ." Professor Volturi began, hands on his hips in front of me, "you _do_ want to pass this course?"

"Yes, very much. I'm sorry I've been away, but I've been keeping up on my own."

It was a lie—not even a very good one—and this guy wasn't buying it. "Even if you _have_ been listening to the music," he said, indicating he clearly doubted me, "it's really not enough. The university likes to believe I actually add some value."

"Sorry, I didn't mean—ugh, yeah."

"It's all right." He smiled kindly. "Look, are you serious about catching up?"

I sat up a little straighter in my chair. "Yes."

He lifted one hand to his shaggy beard. "I'm going to offer you a one-time special deal. Are you ready?"

"Yes."

"You come and see me during my office hours until we've listened to all the highlights of the music that you missed. That's roughly thirty minutes per piece, three hours of your life between now and Friday. Can you commit to that?"

"You'd do that for me?"

"Of course. It took guts for you to walk back in here. You show me some effort, and I'm more than willing to go out of my way to help you get back on track."

"Thank you. I really appreciate that, and I'll be there."

He smiled. "I look forward to it."

I slipped my hand into Edward's as we passed through the doorway together and out into the blustery day.

"Library?" I asked.

"I don't think I can sit still right now," he replied.

The hand that wasn't holding mine was fidgety, pulling through his hair, opening and closing, in and out of his pocket. "You want to grab some coffee or maybe some emergency Cheetos?"

He pulled up short and let go of my hand. "I think I need to go for a run or something. Can I have the key to your room?"

I was ashamed of myself for the thought that crossed my mind, but I couldn't help it. It was the first time we would be apart since our pact to quit smoking; for a fleeting moment, it struck me that maybe he'd cheat. I mentally kicked my own ass and dug out my key for him. "Sure. Meet me in front of the library in what, two hours?"

"That should do it. Thanks, Bella. See you later."

I watched his back as he walked away, a nervous ball of energy carried away by two long legs.

_He's doing this for you, and he's not about to fall off the wagon._

By the time I cracked open my finance book in the third floor stacks, I was mostly convinced Edward was fine. We were fine.

I pulled on my Walkman and filled twenty pages of my notebook with formulas and mind-numbing portfolio theories, taking a break every half hour to stretch my legs and splash cool water onto my face. After covering four of the six chapters, I packed up with some measure of satisfaction—and maybe even a little hope that I could actually get this done—and headed outside to wait for him.

My breath left my body in moist bursts of steam as I hopped from one foot to the other to keep warm. Right at the appointed time, I saw his figure approaching down the diagonal walk that cut through the main green. If I had any doubt about Edward's commitment before, it vanished when I got my first look at him.

Edward was a mess—an agitated, unfocused, unhappy-looking collection of body parts that appeared to all want to be somewhere else, and preferably not together. His mouth was drawn into a tight scowl, and the awful clench was back.

"Hey," I said softly, taking in his red-rimmed eyes and the trace of orange powder on his lips.

"Hey."

"Did it help at all?"

His eyes bounced around, over my shoulder, up to the sky, onto my chest—which I took as the first good sign—but he couldn't focus. "Maybe. I don't know. My head is pounding and I really w—" He cut himself off with a firm shake of his head.

I grabbed his hands in mine. "Remember, the craving only lasts for three minutes. You just have to get through the next three minutes."

"Yep," he answered tightly, pulling his hands away and punching them into his pockets.

My heart flipped over in my chest. I'd had a few difficult moments myself, yearning for a cigarette after dinner last night and first thing this morning, but aside from that, my body wasn't craving nicotine the way his obviously was. I wanted so badly to help him.

"What can I do for you?" I begged, knowing he had no more answers than I did. "Would it help if I kissed you?"

_Clench_ went the jawbone.

"No, I don't think so." He met my eyes. "Nothing personal, Bella."

"It's okay. You wanna try to study somewhere or maybe get a bite to eat?"

"I think maybe I should be alone. I'm not feeling very . . . supportive right now."

I wanted to hug him, but his body language was unmistakable. I'd seen it before, and I knew what happened when I pushed him too hard. I clasped my own hands together and settled for letting my voice do the hugging. "Edward, you don't need to worry about me right now. I'm okay, and I don't want to leave you alone with this."

He scowled. "I don't know, Bella. I'm afraid I'll . . ."

"You'll what?"

"I don't know. Act like an ass, show you a side of me I don't want you to see. I feel like there's a beast inside me right now, and I'm not sure I can control him."

I needed to find a way to let him know that his vulnerability was okay. "I'm not afraid of seeing what's inside of you."

"God, Bella, I haven't tried to quit smoking since ninth grade, and it was not pretty. _I'm_ afraid to see what's inside of me."

"I trust you."

"Pshhh." He turned his head to the side, unwilling to believe in himself or in me.

"Hey, you saw me at rock bottom two days ago, and I wasn't allowed to hide. I think I should have the same privilege."

"Some privilege!" he snapped back.

"Edward, you've been protecting me since we met—from everything."

"I like protecting you."

I tried to ignore the erotic shiver his statement sent down my spine. "It has to be exhausting."

"No. I mean, sure, you're a bit of a challenge sometimes, but . . ." Finally, a smile appeared, at least in his eyes. "It's a good job. I'm not ready for my pink slip."

I stepped closer; my knees knocked up against his legs. "Nobody is firing you. I like you taking care of me, too. I'm just saying, why don't you give me a turn to be strong for you for a change?"

He had no choice but to look into my eyes. "You might have to chain me to the bed if this craving doesn't pass."

"Professor Volturi might find that ironic."

He chuffed. "I really didn't like that guy picturing you tied up to my bed."

"Oh, it's _your_ bed now?" I teased.

"Our bed."

"I gotta admit, it didn't really sound that bad to me," I replied, the fantasy of lying naked and spread-eagle for Edward making me hot even as the cold air kicked up around us.

"Guess what," Edward said.

"What?" _Tell me, sexy boy. Tell me you're thinking of it too._

"The craving passed. I'm okay." He looked really proud of himself, and his smile lit up his whole face.

"Humph," I fake-pouted. "Does that mean I have to put away my chains?"

"For the moment," he chuckled, "but I'll take that kiss now."

* * *

**A/N:** Did anyone think Edward would cheat? *GASP!*

Many of you have made the astute observation that this relationship has been unequal from the start. Perhaps the scales have just tipped with Bella stepping up to bat for him?

What about your own relationship/marriage, readers? Is one of you usually strong for the other? Is equal better? I'll share first- My guy is my rock and always has been. It seems to work for us. Right, honey?

Today is the day we ensure veterans know that we deeply appreciate the sacrifices they have made in the lives to keep our country free. To you who serve, your parents, spouses, and children, you have my deepest gratitude.

**XXX ~BOH**


	35. Chapter 35

**~ 35 ~**

What the literature didn't say was that the three-minute cravings could pile up quickly, almost on top of each other. By two o'clock, Edward looked worn out and used up. The good news was, he was still winning the man versus nicotine war, but I wasn't sure how much more he had in reserve.

"Are you sure you're gonna be okay? I can skip Risk Management. It's all just tables—"

"Absolutely not, Bella. That would defeat the whole purpose. Your classes come first. It's only an hour. I'll be fine."

He didn't look fine, but I didn't want to underestimate this man who had yet to disappoint me.

"Are you gonna make your list?"

Edward leaned against the wall outside my class and sighed toward the ceiling. "I don't know, Bella. I want to say yes, but I don't feel like making any promises right now, okay?"

"Yeah, sure. I get it. Listen, I have to go inside. Meet me in front of the library after?"

"Sure."

"'Kay. Later." I gave him a quick peck on the cheek and tried to slip into class unnoticed.

"Oh my, will you look who's decided to join us? Here, I have a seat for you right up front."

I had never been so grateful for my long hair, shielding my heated cheeks from the rest of the class as I burned with hatred for my power-hungry TA.

"No doubt you have done the reading, Miss Swan? Would you care to define 'exclusive remedy' for the class?"

I hadn't even taken off my coat yet, and the guy was already harassing me. He wasn't going to quit until I answered, so I said, "Pass," praying it would get him off my back.

"Pass? Are we playing twenty questions?" he asked with a condescending chuckle.

The class was utterly silent, and I suspected all eyes were on me though I couldn't imagine my classmates were enjoying this humiliating scene any more than I was. I sank lower in my seat and refused to look up at him. I'd wait it out, play chicken, and hope he'd come to his senses before he alienated everyone in the class.

"Exclusive remedy, Miss Swan?"

I sat still as a statue.

A voice I didn't recognize jumped in, "The employer has absolute liability for the employee's injuries, and the employee does not have the right to sue."

Rajiv waited a tick, not sure if he was ready to let go of this meaty bone, then realizing the rest of the class was not going to stand by while he bullied me, he backed away and returned to his table. I reached for my notebook and pen slowly but deliberately as he lectured, careful not to draw his attention or further wrath. I really hated this guy, but I wouldn't let him derail me—not with Edward working so hard to battle his own demons. I was able to push through the hour, quickly gathering my things and rushing out so I didn't have to face Rajiv one on one.

I was pretty ragged by the time I reached the library. My fingers were itching to dig for a smoke in my bag, and I don't know that I could've resisted if I had one handy. "Three minutes, three minutes," I reminded myself. "One Mississippi, two Mississippi . . ."

"One hundred bottles of beer. What are we playing?"

"Not twenty questions," I snapped back at the unsuspecting man waiting for me at the top of the steps.

"Huh?"

"Ugh, sorry. I just had the TA from hell, and he's put me in a lousy mood."

"I should've gone with you," Edward said, narrowing his eyes and getting all clenchy.

"No, Edward," I halted him with my hand on his chest. "You can't fight all my battles for me. Hey, where's your coat?"

"Inside. Come on. I saved you a carrel."

I followed his pleasingly snug stonewashed jeans up three flights of stairs and across the crowded floor to a cluster of six music carrels with headphones. "I got us these," he announced proudly, sliding into the chair across from me.

"That was sweet of you. Are you listening to my music with me?"

"Um, no, thanks anyway. I found some other stuff in the cabinet."

I reached over the divider and lifted the two cassettes in front of him.

"No fair! You get Van Halen and Springsteen while I have to listen to Handel and Scarlatti?"

An unapologetic laugh burst out of him. "If you want me to stay awake, yes."

"Okay, you," I said, setting the tapes back down on his desk. "Hey, what's that?" My eyes landed on a ripped-out piece of notebook paper, which Edward snapped up quickly and held to his chest.

"I started my list."

"Can I see?" Okay, it was bold of me to ask for something so personal, but hey, we were in this thing all the way now.

He rolled his eyes, but it seemed to be more at himself than me. "I didn't get very far."

I held out my hand and curled my fingers in a "give it up" gesture. He passed the paper to me as if sharing his diary, his unbounded generosity truly shaking me as I took in his handwriting for the first time.

I couldn't say what I expected, but like his soulful singing voice, his careful script was a surprise. Another layer of my enigmatic mechanic peeled away before my eyes. I could practically see him sitting here alone, thoughtfully scrawling out the heading, "Reasons to Quit Smoking."

Listed on the sheet were the obvious—lungs, teeth, breath—but the fourth and final entry made me shiver: _For Bella_.

I couldn't speak, and apparently neither could Edward. Handing him back the paper, we both settled into our chairs and pulled on the heavy headphones. I could only see the top of his head over the divider, which was probably a good thing. Concentration would've been impossible otherwise.

I was eyeballs deep into Act III of Handel's _Agrippina _when a scrap of notebook paper with the message, "FEED ME," slid over the divider, startling me. I checked my watch and was shocked to see it was already seven o'clock.

"Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry!" I started, causing Edward to laugh and bring his finger to his lips. Great! I forgot there was an opera in my ears and had probably just shouted loud enough to disturb everyone on the floor. Making a quick note of the tape counter, I stopped the music and packed up.

"Did you get a lot done?" I asked.

"Yeah, I think I have the math part nailed. The music helped . . . and the fact that I couldn't see you." When I stood up, he was right next to me, grinning sheepishly.

"I know what you mean." Just thinking about Edward all these months had been distracting enough; with him so close, his body available to me—more or less—and knowing what I knew about the taste of his kisses, the feel of his skin, his sexy moves and soft grunts—

". . . pretty sure I could eat an actual horse."

Snapping out of my reverie, I answered, "Jeez, why didn't you stop me sooner?"

"You looked like you were getting a lot done. Besides," he said, leading me over to the stairwell and rolling into a jog down the first flight, "I may have had a few Cheetos to tide me over."

"I don't know what I'm going to do with you, Edward Cullen," I called down after him.

Edward pushed open the heavy door and stepped aside for me to go first. "Don't worry. I have enough ideas for both of us."

Before I could turn around and roll my eyes, he was pressed into my side and taking my hand in his. I had already decided that holding Edward's hand—even through wool gloves—was one of my favorite activities of all time. "You know, Bella," Edward murmured, "now that I think about it, I'm in the mood for fast food tonight."

* * *

**A/N:** Aww, Edward's reasons to quit. Sheesh. Hey, do kids even use notebooks anymore?

Thank you all for sharing some of your stories about relationship balance and imbalance. It's obviously something I think about a lot when I'm writing . . . and living.

Some of you are inventing fabulous plot tangents here with Alec and Prof. V-you girls are ANGST CITY! I suppose I could've tortured these two a whole lot longer and deeper, but that dark place just isn't for me. I also loved the plot bunny Austen Devotee gave me- Life Coachward. Has anybody done that one yet? Nom nom nom. _Let's Get Physical_ was the closest I've seen, and I LOVED that one!

Have I told you lately that I love you?

**XXX ~BOH**


	36. Chapter 36

**~ 36~**

I was worried about Edward. He was fairly calm through dinner, but once we walked outside, he became agitated.

"Want to work on our lists?"

"I'm done with the stupid list, Bella. Not gonna help."

"How about another toothpick?"

He looked sideways at me and gave me a nice-try shake of his head. We'd reached my dorm again, and poor Edward was twitchier than I'd ever seen him.

"Maybe I'll go for a run."

"Now? It's dark out and we just ate." He'd eaten three burritos. I didn't want to make him feel self-conscious, but I also didn't want him to barf up his dinner.

"My head is pounding, and I want to jump out of my skin."

"I want to help you. What can I do?"

"Bella . . ." He looked utterly desolate, shifting his eyes from me to the night sky and back again. "I'm not gonna be good for you right now."

"That's bull. I'm fine. Come inside and let me distract you."

He took his time mulling over my offer, clenching all the while. "I can't promise anything, Bella."

I leaned forward and kissed him. "Just promise you'll let me take care of you."

Blowing out a heavy breath, Edward nodded and followed me inside.

We dropped our bags and coats by the door, and I dragged him over to the bed. "Have a seat." I popped in "Sugar Magnolia," and he continued to fidget while I scooted behind him and ran my hands up and down his back. "Try taking a couple deep breaths," I told him, cringing when I remembered how he pulled away from my touch this morning.

I could feel his shaky breath traveling beneath my fingers through the taut muscles of his neck. "Let it go, Edward." He rolled his shoulders in small circles as I massaged him through his shirt.

Just when he began to relax, Edward reached back and covered one of my hands with his. "Sorry. I'm just in a really bad place right now." With a close-up view of his profile, I could read his regret and disappointment.

"You're doing great, Edward. One more really rough day and then the physical craving will be behind you."

His hand fell away. "I'm not sure I can make it through another twenty-four hours like this."

"You can," I assured him, gripping his shoulders and teasing out the tension. _And you can get him through this_, I coaxed myself. "I'm right here . . ." I pressed soft kisses into his neck while I kneaded his muscles.

"That feels good," he mumbled.

"Good." Was it weird that I shivered with his compliment? I splayed my hands and traveled up both sides of his neck until he flopped forward like a rag doll. This was so much better than the restless, stressed-out mess he'd been most of the day.

I slipped both hands inside his shirt and ran my palms up Edward's back. Rocking and swaying, Edward completely lost himself as I rubbed away every knot I could find. Goose bumps sprang up as my fingertips crept out to his sides and around to the ridges on his stomach.

"Mmm," he moaned as I moved up his chest, pulling him against me and shuffling backward so he was stretched out with his head in my lap. Edward's eyes were closed—not the pinched, pained way I'd often seen, but in pure relaxation. As I massaged circles into his temples, he hummed softly.

Edward lifted his hand to my knee, revealing a sliver of his belly as his shirt slid up. "Feels amazing," he mumbled.

"How's the headache?" I whispered.

"Better, thanks." He opened his clear, expressive eyes and smiled at me. "You're good at this."

"Beginner's luck," I answered, elated by his compliment.

He smiled wider. "You should probably stop before I develop an unhealthy addiction."

I laughed. "I think that would make us even. I've been addicted to you since the moment I saw you."

He watched me for a few seconds more before shifting in my lap so he could reach my waist. "Get down here with me."

My whole body thrilled at his command. I lifted his head out of my lap and stretched out alongside him on the bed. Edward reached for the back of my neck and pulled me in, and I opened for the warm, urgent press of his lips and tongue. Dizzy with desire, I swooned when his other hand found my belt loops and tugged me up against his body, our legs tangling in a frenzy while our ankles knotted us together. My newly-freed hands teased the tight points of his nipples between my fingers, and I felt the not-so-subtle thrust of his hips looking for friction. Mine answered with a flex and a roll. _Yes, yes, yes._

"Oh god, Bella . . ." he mumbled as he broke our kiss. "We better stop."

"Why? We aren't breaking any rules."

He chuckled lightly and pressed soft kisses into my neck. "Because I haven't come in my pants since that first time with you, and I would really rather not do that again."

"So take them off."

He pulled away so he could read my expression. "You want me to take my pants off?"

"Actually, I'd rather do it for you," I answered, reaching for his jeans before he could object.

I felt him tense up as I unbuttoned his jeans. "Bella, we shouldn't rush things."

As I worked open the zipper, the thick outline of Edward's erection revealed itself. _That's for me_. My eyes landed on a wet spot on his underwear, and my throat closed up with the unpleasant recollection of gagging on Alec.

_This was Edward_, I reminded myself—Edward, who cares about me; Edward, who came here to save me; Edward, my sexy, tempting mechanic, who had become so much more.

"Bella . . ."

I pushed his jeans out of the way and shimmied back up to kiss him. Edward welcomed my tongue and let me distract away his objections. "Let me make you feel good."

He hissed as my hand closed over his swollen bump. "I'm not strong enough to stop you right now."

I had my opening. "Good, because I really want this."

Edward stroked my cheek with his thumb, gratitude pouring from his eyes.

He lay stock still while I kissed my way down his belly, hooked my thumbs into his elastic waistband, and peeled away his underwear. Surprisingly, none of my earlier dread remained, even as I took in his size. I brushed my palm along his length, delighting in the way he leapt up into my hand. "Oh shit," he moaned, folding crossed arms over his eyes. I lowered my mouth to his tip, taking my first taste of Edward.

"Ungh," he groaned softly, coloring the flavor on my tongue with his pleasure. I needed more of his moans, more of his elation, more of his desire. I teased him, lapping around the ridge, mixing my own taste with his. He could no longer lie still, and it excited me to see him squirm. Like the massage, I was certainly no expert at this, but I let Edward's responses be my guide. He was the most appreciative audience—every touch, every lick or nibble brought some kind of hiss or moan, and he was now pumping his hips in a noticeable rhythm. I loved the passion I was able to evoke.

His thrusting became more urgent, and I quickened my strokes to match his pace. His arousal was contagious. Greedy for contact, I drew one of his legs between mine.

"Bella, so good . . . Watch out, I'm close—"

I ran one hand up his taut belly and tightened my lips around him, reassuring him I wanted this. Edward stilled and sucked in a deep breath, which he released with a low rumble as he came in my mouth.

I was ready for the hot stream this time. There wasn't anyone forcing me to swallow, but I chose to anyway. I rested my cheek on Edward's chest and waited for his breath to slow. His fingers pulled gently through my hair as we both lay there satisfied and content.

"I was really not expecting that," he said softly, "_any_ of it." He chuckled. "Can I return the favor?"

I felt the heat rush over my cheeks, and I was glad I could hide my face. "Not tonight, but thanks."

"Okay," he answered, twirling my hair lazily. "That was awesome, Bella. Thank you—for the massage . . . and all the rest." I loved the rare shy note in his voice.

"It was my pleasure."

His laughter shook his belly and made my face bounce along with it. "It was most definitely _my_ pleasure, Bella, and I will not forget that I owe you one."

* * *

**A/N:** Well now! Her mindset was a definite shift from where she was with that other guy, huh? She didn't even vomit! :) A good man can do that for ya!

Ahhh. It's a good day. :)

**XXX ~BOH**


	37. Chapter 37

**~ 37~**

I tried to keep my mind on the lecture, especially since the professor was reviewing for the final, but my thoughts kept returning to Edward. I'd tiptoed out of the room this morning with the hope that more sleep would give him a better chance to fight his hardest battles yet with nicotine. I actually felt a bit guilty that I wasn't having a rougher time with it, but frankly, having Edward close was such a tremendous positive for me that everything else felt almost effortless.

I knew how to study—though I'd never gotten this far behind before—but once I applied myself, I was confident I could make up all my lost ground. With my relationship with Dad on the mend, I'd already jumped over my biggest hurdles. Not so for poor Edward.

He was rusty on the study front and too embarrassed to ask for help. Edward had more common sense smarts than anyone I knew, but he'd never been much for books. I sometimes fantasized about long, romantic nights ahead where we could stretch out together, his head on my stomach and his hands doing naughty things to me while I read to him from my favorite authors.

But first, I had to help him through this rough patch. The moment I saw him standing against the wall outside my lecture hall, I knew he was having a terrible time.

"Ready for lunch?"

"As long as it doesn't taste anything like cheese, I'm good."

I'd been politely ignoring the traces of orange powder around his lips, but now that he'd mentioned it, I leaned in and swiped my tongue across his lips. "Don't worry. We can find you a Cheetos Anonymous meeting after we get through this."

He chuckled and fell into step beside me. "I think you're starting to like the cheese-flavored kisses. You might be enabling me."

"Haha, very funny. Just because I put up with some of your flavors doesn't mean I like them."

"Oh, HO!" Edward's eyebrows shot up with his surprised smile as he pushed open the heavy door for me. The cold air felt good after sitting in the stuffy lecture hall. I turned around to take Edward's hand.

"So where do you want to—"

"Bella? Is that you?"

My stomach flipped over. I hadn't seen Angela since our run-in after Alec, and if she'd been alone, she might've walked right past me without saying hello. It was Ben who'd broken protocol—sweet Ben, who never could hurt a flea.

I tightened my grip on Edward and pulled him into my side. "Hey, Ben, Ange."

Angela's eyes flicked to Edward, and she sprouted a smug smirk. "Another one, Bella? Tall and lean, scruffy beard, green eyes, messy hair, check, check, check! You're getting better at this, I see."

Oh my god, she was not doing this to me. "Angela, this is Edward."

Her face twisted into an ugly grimace. "Aren't they all, Bella?"

Edward didn't understand exactly what was going on, but he certainly recognized the name. "Angela? As in, the friend who Bella stayed with this summer?"

I was waiting for Angela's epiphany and mortification. After all this time, I'd been vindicated. Edward had come for me after all.

"Yes," she answered, "and you are . . .?"

This was insane. "I told you. It's Edward. Edward Cullen." She was still clueless. "My hot mechanic!"

Edward guffawed next to me, and I poked him in the side. "Quiet, you." He closed his smiling mouth, but he couldn't stop the amusement from beaming through his eyes.

It finally sank in. Angela turned to Edward, her jaw dropped open, and she blatantly ogled him from head to toe. "Wow." She was dumbfounded. _Hallelujah_, as Edward would've said.

Edward kindly offered his hand first to Ben, then to Angela, who took it but still appeared dazed by the whole experience. "What are you doing here? Are you a student now?"

"No," Edward chuffed. "I'm just here for a couple weeks with Bella."

"Wow," she repeated, still staring slack-jawed at him. "So you're the guy who wrecked Bella's life?"

Edward turned to me, his expression one giant question mark.

"Jeez, Angela, did all your manners go down the toilet?"

She fixed her glare on me and had the nerve to become indignant, propping her tiny little fists onto her hips. "What, Bella? I finally get to meet the guy that turned you inside-out, made you start smoking, ruined your relationship with your parents, turned you into some . . . _sewer rat_ and broke up our friendship, and I'm not allowed to say anything to him?"

"Angela! I swear to—"

"Yes. I'm the guy." Edward was calm and his voice was steady, but I saw the telltale clench in his jaw. "Say whatever you need to say."

Ben stepped in and tried to whisper something into her ear, but Angela shrugged him off. "You ruined my friend." There were tears brimming in her eyes, and for a second, I forgot all the bad stuff that had passed between us and just remembered how easy it used to be. My heart opened, and a sudden gust of affection for Angela blew in. I never doubted that she cared about me, that she was sad I'd changed and we'd fallen apart.

Edward grasped my hand again and brushed his thumb reassuringly across my knuckles. "The truth is," he told her in the kindest possible way, "we ruined each other."

I sighed and lay my face along his arm. Angela was completely neutralized by his answer.

"I came back so we could make things right. I can take the blame for a lot of stuff, Angela, but not for your friendship with Bella. That's on the two of you."

Angela looked over at me as the tears spilled down her cheeks. "I've never closed that door," she said gently.

I took a shaky breath through the pile of raw emotions. "Ange, I'm not ready to have this conversation with you right now," I replied. When the hope seeped out of her expression, I quickly added, "Maybe when we come back after break?"

She nodded quickly. "Okay."

The four of us kind of nodded and acknowledged that something had just shifted, and while we were all trying to figure out how to move on, Edward broke up the awkward.

"Bella needs to feed me now, or something very bad will happen."

* * *

**A/N:** Dang, I love me a good reconciliation- or what seems to be the beginning of one? Thoughts?

**XXX ~BOH**


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